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(Jharras  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  unloaded  his  pistols.— Page  9, 

—History  of  a  Crime. 


HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 


(DEPOSITION  OF  A  WITNESS.) 


By  VICTOR  HUGO, 

Author  of  "Les  Miserables"  "Hunchback  of  Notre  Dame,"  "  Ninety  - 
Three,"  "Toilers  of  the  Sea"  "By  Order  of  the  King." 


NEW  YORK: 
L.   BURT,   PUBLISHER. 


V 


0 

o 


!  H  4 


PREFACE. 

Tms  -work  is  more  than  opportune ;  it  is   imperative. 
I  publish  it. 

V.  H. 

Paeis,  October  1, 1877. 


CONTENTS 


THE  FIRST  DAY— THE  AMBUSH. 

CHAPTER  PAGE. 

I.     "Security" 9 

II.     Paris  sleeps — the  Bell  rings 13 

III.  What  had  happened  during  the  Night 15 

IV.  Other  Doings  of  the  Night .31 

V.     The  Darkness  of  the  Crime 33 

VI.     "  Placards " 35 

VII.    No.  70,  Rue  Blanche 39 

VIII.     "  Violation  of  the  Chamber  " 46 

IX.     An  End  worse  than  Death 56 

X.    The  Black  Door 53 

XI.     The  High  Court  of  Justice 00 

II.     The  Maine  of  the  Tenth  Arrondissement TA 

XIII.  Louis  Bonaparte's  Side-face 93 

XIV.  The  D'Orsay  Barracks 95 

XV.     Mazas 105 

XVI.     The  Episode  of  the  Boulevard  St.  Martin 110 

XVII.  The  Rebound  of  the  24th  June,  1848,  on  the  2d  Decem- 
ber 1851 120 

XVIII.     The  Representatives  hunted  down 126 

XIX.     One  Foot  in  the  Tomb 134 

XX.     The  Burial  of  a  Great  Anniversary 143 


THE  SECOND  DAY— THE  STRUGGLE. 

I.     They  come  to  Arrest  me 145 

II.     From  the  Bastille  to  the  Rue  de  Cotte 152 

III.  The  St.  Antoine  Barricade 156 

IV.  The  Workmen's  Societies  ask  us  for  the  Order  to  fight.  171 
V.     Baudin's  Corpse 176 

VI.  The  Decrees  of  the  Representatives  who  remained  Free.  181 

VII.    The  Archbishop 197 


L  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

VIIT.  Mount  Vale'rien , 203 

IX.  The  Lightning  begins  to  flash  among  the  People 207 

X.  What  Fleury  went  to  do  at  Mazas 213 

XL  The  End  of  the  Second  Day 219 


THE  THIRD  DAY— THE  MASSACRE. 

I.     Those  who  sleep  and  He  who  does  not  sleep 223 

II.     The  Proceedings  of  the  Committee 225 

III.  Inside  the  Elysee 233 

IV.  Bonaparte's  Familiar  Spirits 237 

Y.     A  Wavering  Ally 242 

VI.     Denis  Dussouhs 244 

VII.    Items  and  Interviews 245 

VIII.     The  Situation 250 

IX.     The  Porte  Saint  Martin 250 

X.     My  Visit  to  the  Barricades 258 

XL     The  Barricade  of  the  Rue  Meslay 202 

XII.  The  Barricade  of  the  Mairie  of  the  Fifth  Arrondisse- 

ment 200 

XIII.  The  Barricade  of  the  Rue  Thevenot 208 

XIV.  Ossian  and  Scipio ...  272 

XV.     The  Question  presents  itself 279 

XVI.     The  Massacre 2S4 

XVII.  The  Appointment  made  with  the  Workmen's  Societies.  292 

XVIII.     The  Verification  of  Moral  Laws 297 


THE  FOURTH  DAY— THE  VICTORY. 

I.    What  happened  during  the  Night — the  Rue  Tiquetonne.  301 
II.    What  happened  during  the  Night — the  Market  Quar- 
ter    304 

III.  What  happened  during  the  Night — the  Petit  Carreau.  .   317 

IV.  What   was  done   during   the    Night — the   Passage  du 

Saumon :!29 

V.     Other  Deeds  of  Darkness 330 

VI.     The  Consultative  Committee 343 


VII.    The  Other  List 349 


CONTENTS.  5 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

VIII.     David  d' Angers 352 

IX.     Our  Last  Meeting 354 

X.     Duty  can  have  two  Aspects 358 

XI.     The  Combat  finished,  the  Ordeal  begins 366 

XII.     The  Exiled : 368 

XIII.  The  Military  Commissions  and  the  mixed  Commissions.  382 

XIV.  A  Keligious  Incident 386 

XV.     How  they  came  out  of  Ham 386 

XVI.    A  Ketrospect 396 

XVII.     Conduct  of  the  Left 397 

XVIII.     A  Page  written  at  Brussels 406 

XIX.    The  Infallible  Benediction 410 


CONCLUSION— THE  FALL. 


Chap.  1 411 

Chap.  II 413 

Chap.  Ill 415 

Chap.  IV 417 

Chap.  V 418 

Chap.  VI 420 

Chap.  VII 422 

Chap.  VIII 425 

Chap.  IX 427 

Chap.  X 428 


THE 

HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 


THE  FIRST  DAY. 

THE    AMBUSH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  SECUEITY." 

On  December  1,  1851,Charras*  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  unloaded  his  pistols.  In  truth,  the  belief  in  the 
possibility  of  a  coup  d'etat  had  become  humiliating*.  The 
supposition  of  such  illegal  violence  on  the  part  of  M. 
Louis  Bonaparte  vanished  upon  serious  consideration. 
The  great  question  of  the  day  was  manifestly  the  Devincq 
election;  it  was  clear  that  the  Government  was  only 
thinking  of  that  matter.  As  to  a  conspiracy  against  the 
Republic  and  against  the  People,  how  could  any  one 
premeditate  such  a  plot  ?  Where  was  the  man  capable 
of  entertaining  such  a  dream  ?  For  a  tragedy  there  must 
be  an  actor,  and  here  assuredly  the  actor  was  want- 
ing. To  outrage  Right,  to  suppress  the  Assembly,  to 
abolish  the  Constitution,  to  strangle  the  Republic,  to 
overthrow  the  Nation,  to  sully  the  Flag,  to  dishonor  the 
Army,  to  suborn  the  Clergy  and  the  Magistracy,  to  succeed, 
to  triumph,  to  govern,  to  administer,  to  exile,  to  banish, 
to  transport,  to  ruin,  to  assassinate,  to  reign,  with  such 
complicities  that  the  law  at  last  resembles  a  foul  bed  of 
corruption.     What!      All  these   enormities  .were  to   bo 

*  Colonel  Charras  was  Under-Secretary  of  State  in  184S,  and  Act- 
ing Secretary  of  War  under  the  Provisional  Government, 


10  THE  UI STORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

committed!  And  by  whom?  By  a  Colossus?  No,  by 
a  dwarf.  People  laughed  at  the  notion.  They  no  longer 
said  "  What  a  crime !  "  but  "  What  a  farce !  "  For 
after  all  they  reflected ;  heinous  crimes  require  stature. 
Certain  crimes  are  too  lofty  for  certain  hands.  A  man 
who  would  achieve  an  18th  Brumaire  must  have  Areola  in 
his  past  and  Austerlitz  in  his  future.  The  art  of  becom- 
ing a  great  scoundrel  is  not  accorded  to  the  first  comer. 
People  said  to  themselves,  Who  is  this  son  of  Ilortense  V 
He  has  Strasbourg  behind  him  instead  of  Areola,  and 
Boulogne  in  place  of  Austerlitz.  He  is  a  Frenchman, 
born  a  Dutchman,  and  naturalized  a  Swiss;  he  is  a 
Bonaparte  crossed  with  a  Verhuell ;  he  is  only  celebrated 
for  the  ludicrousness  of  his  imperial  attitude,  and  he  who 
would  pluck  a  feather  from  his  eagle  would  risk  finding 
a  goose's  quill  in  his  hand.  This  Bonaparte  does  not  pass 
currency  in  the  army,  he  is  a  counterfeit  image  less  of 
gold  than  of  lead,  and  assuredly  French  soldiers  will  not 
give  us  the  change  for  this  false  Napoleon  in  rebellion,  in 
atrocities,  in  massacres,  in  outrages,  in  treason.  If  he 
should  attempt  roguery  it  would  miscarry.  Not  a  regi- 
ment would  stir.  Besides,  why  should  he  make  such  an 
attempt  ?  Doubtless  he  has  his  suspicious  side,  but  why 
suppose  him  an  absolute  villain?  Such  extreme  out- 
rages are  beyond  him  ;  he  is  incapable  of  them  physically, 
why  judge  him  capable  of  them  morally?  Has  he  not 
pledged  honor  ?  Has  he  not  said,  "  No  one  in  Europe 
doubts  my  word  ?  "  Let  us  fear  nothing.  To  this  could 
be  answered,  Crimes  are  committed  either  on  a  grand 
or  on  a  mean  scale.  In  the  first  category  there  is  Caesar ; 
in  the  second  there  is  Mandrill.  Cresar  passes  the  Rubicon, 
Mandrin  bestrides  the  gutter.  But  wise  men  interposed, 
"  Are  we  not  prejudiced  by  offensive  conjectures?  This 
man  has  been  exiled  and  unfortunate.  Exile  enlightens, 
misfortune  corrects." 

For  his  part  Louis  Bonaparte  protested  energetically. 
Facts  abounded  in  his  favor.  Why  should  he  not  act  in 
good  faith?  He  had  made  remarkable  promises.  To- 
wards the  end  of  October,  1848,  then  a  candidate  for  the 
Presidency,  he  was  calling  at  No.  37,  Rue  de  la  Tour 
d'Auvergne,  on  a  certain  personage,  to  whom  he  re- 
marked, "  I  wish  to  have  an  explanation  with  you. 
They  slander  me.     Do  I  give  you  the  impression  of  a 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  11 

madman?  They  think  that  I  wish  to  revivify  Napoleon. 
There  are  two  men  whom  a  great  ambition  can  take  for 
its  models,  Napoleon  and  Washington.  The  one  is  a  man 
of  Genius,  the  other  is  a  man  of  Virtue.  It  is  ridiculous 
to  say,  '  I  will  be  a  man  of  Genius  ; '  it  is  honest  to  say, 
'I  will  be  a  man  of  Virtue.'  Which  of  these  depends 
upon  ourselves  ?  Which  can  we  accomplish  by  our  will  ? 
To  be  Genius  ?  No.  To  be  Probity  ?  Yes.  The  attain- 
ment of  Genius  is  not  possible  ;  the  attainment  of  Probity 
is  a  possibility.  And  what  could  I  revive  of  Napoleon  ? 
One  sole  thing — a  crime.  Truly  a  worthy  ambition! 
Why  should  I  be  considered  man  ?  The  Republic  being 
established,  I  am  not  a  great  man,  I  shall  not  copy 
Napoleon;  but  I  am  an  honest  man.  I  shall  imitate 
Washington.  My  name,  the  name  of  Bonaparte,  will  be 
inscribed  on  two  pages  of  the  history  of  France :  on  the 
first  there  will  be  crime  and  glory,  on  the  second  probity 
and  honor.  And  the  second  will  perhaps  be  worth  the 
first.  Why  ?  Because  if  Napoleon  is  the  greater,  Wash- 
ington is  the  better  man.  Between  the  guilty  hero  and 
the  good  citizen  I  choose  the  good  citizen.  Such  is  my 
ambition." 

From  1848  to  1851  three  years  elapsed.  People  had 
long  suspected  Louis  Bonaparte  ;  but  long-continued  sus- 
picion blunts  the  intellect  and  Avears  itself  out  by  fruitless 
alarms.  Louis  Bonaparte  had  had  dissimulating  minis- 
ters such  as  Magne  and  Rouher ;  but  he  had  also  had 
straightforward  ministers  such  as  Leon  Faucher  and 
Odilon  Barrot ;  and  these  last  had  affirmed  that  he  was 
upright  and  sincere.  He  had  been  seen  to  beat  his  breast 
before  the  doors  of  Ham ;  his  foster  sister,  Madame  Ilor- 
tense  Cornu,  wrote  to  Mieroslawsky,  "lam  a  good  Repub- 
lican, and  I  can  answer  for  him."  His  friend  of  Ham, 
Peauger,  a  loyal  man,  declared,  "  Louis  Bonaparte  is  in- 
capable of  treason."  Had  not  Louis  Bonaparte  written 
the  work  entitled  "Pauperism  "?  In  the  intimate  circles 
of  the  Elysee  Count  Potocki  was  a  Republican  and  Count 
d'Orsay  was  a  Liberal ;  Louis  Bonaparte  said  to  Potocki, 
"I  am  a  man  of  the  Democracy,"  and  to  D'Orsay,  "  I  am 
a  man  of  Liberty."  The  Marquis  du  Hallays  opposed  the 
coup  d'etat,  while  the  Marquise  du  llallays  was  in  its 
favor.  Louis  Bonaparte  said  to  the  Marquis.  "  Fear 
nothing"  (it  is  true  that  he  whispered  t<>  the  Marquise, 


12  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"Make  your  mind  easy  "  ).  The  Assembly,  after  having 
shown  here  and  there  some  symptoms  of  uneasiness,  had 
grown  calm.  There  was  General  Neumayer,  "  who  was 
to  be  depended  upon,"  and  who  from  his  position  at 
Lyons  would  at  need  march  upon  Paris.  Changarnier 
exclaimed,  "  Representatives  of  the  people,  deliberate  in 
peace."  Even  Louis  Bonaparte  himself  had  pronounced 
these  famous  words,  "  I  should  see  an  enemy  of  my  country 
in  any  one  who  would  change  by  force  that  which  has  been 
established  by  law,"  and,  moreover,  the  Army  was  "  force," 
and  the  Army  possessed  leaders,  leaders  who  were  be- 
loved and  victorious.  Lamoriciere,  Changarnier,  Cavai- 
gnac,  Leflo,  Bedeau,  Charras ;  how  could  any  one  imagine 
the  Army  of  Africa  arresting  the  Generals  of  Africa  V 
On  Friday,  November  28,  1851,  Louis  Bonaparte  said  to 
Michel  de  Bourges,  "  If  I  wanted  to  do  wrong,  I  could 
not.  Yesterday,  Thursday,  I  invited  to  my  table  live 
Colonels  of  the  garrison  of  Paris,  and  the  whim  seized 
me  to  question  each  one  by  himself.  All  five  declared  to 
me  that  the  Army  would  never  lend  itself  to  a  coup  de 
force,  nor  attack  the  inviolability  of  the  Assembly.  You 
can  tell  your  friends  this." — "  He  smiled,"  said  Michel  de 
Bourges,  reassured,  "and  I  also  smiled."  After  this, 
Michel  de  Bourges  declared  in  the  Tribune,  "  This  is  the 
man  for  me."  In  that  same  month  of  November  a  satir- 
ical journal,  charged  with  calumniating  the  President 
of  the  Republic,  was  sentenced  to  fine  and  imprisonment 
for  a  caricature  depicting  a  shooting-gallery  and  Louis 
Bonaparte  using  the  Constitution  as  a  target.  Morigny, 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  declared  in  the  Council  before 
the  President  "  that  a  Guardian  of  Public  Power  ought 
never  to  violate  the  law  as  otherwise  he  would  be — "  •'  a 
dishonest  man,"  interposed  the  President.  All  these 
words  and  all  these  facts  were  notorious.  The  material 
and  moral  impossibility  of  the  coup  cTttat  was  manifest  to 
all.  To  outrage  the  National  Assembly  !  To  arrest  the 
Representatives!  What  madness!  As  we  have  seen, 
Charras,  who  had  long  remained  on  his  guard,  unloaded 
his  pistols.  The  feeling  of  security  was  complete  and 
unanimous.  Nevertheless  there  were  some  of  us  in  the 
Assembly  who  still  retained  a  few  doubts,  and  who 
occasionally  shook  our  heads,  but  we  were  looked  upon  as 
fools. 


tEE  EISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME.  13 


CHAPTER  II. 

PARIS    SLEEPS — THE    BELL   RINGS. 

On  the  2d  December,  1851,  Representative  Versigny, 
of  the  Haute- Saone,  who  resided  at  Paris,  at  No.  4,  Rue 
Leonie,  was  asleep.  He  slept  soundly ;  he  had  been 
working  till  late  at  night.  Versigny  was  a  young  man 
of  thirty-two,  soft-featured  and  fair-complexioned,  of  a 
courageous  spirit,  and  a  mind  tending  towards  social  and 
economical  studies.  He  had  passed  the  first  hours  of  the 
night  in  the  perusal  of  a  book  by  Rastiat,  in  which  he  was 
making  marginal  notes,  and,  leaving  the  book  open  on  the 
table,  he  had  fallen  asleep.  Suddenly  he  awoke  with  a 
start  at  the  sound  of  a  sharp  ring  at  the  bell.  He  sprang 
up  in  surprise.  It  was  dawn.  It  was  about  seven  o'clock 
in  the  morning. 

Never  dreaming  what  could  be  the  motive  for  so  early 
a  visit,  and  thinking  that  some  one  had  mistaken  the  door, 
he  again  lay  down,  and  was  about  to  resume  his  slumber, 
when  a  second  ring  at  the  bell,  still  louder  than  the  first, 
completely  aroused  him.  He  got  up  in  his  night-shirt 
and  opened  the  door. 

Michel  de  Rourges  and  Theodore  Rac  entered,  Michel 
de  Rourges  was  the  neighbor  of  Versigny ;  he  lived  at  Xo. 
16,  Rue  de  Milan. 

Theodore  Rac  and  Michel  were  pale,  and  appeared 
greatly  agitated. 

"  Versigny,"  said  Michel,  "  dress  yourself  at  once — 
Baune  has  just  been  arrested." 

"  Bah  !  "  exclaimed  Versigny.  "  Is  the  Mauguin  busi- 
ness beginning  again?" 

"  It  is  more  than  that,"  replied  Michel.  "  Raune's  wife 
and  daughter  came  to  me  half-an-hour  ago.  They  awoke 
me.  Raune  was  arrested  in  his  bed  at  six  o'clock  this 
morning." 

"What  does  that  mean?"  asked  Versigny. 

The  bell  rang  again. 

"This  will  probably  tell  us,"  answered  Michel  de 
Bourges. 


14  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

Versigny  opened  the  door.  It  was  the  Representative 
Pierre  Lefranc.  He  brought,  in  truth,  the  solution  of  the 
enigma. 

"Do  you  know  what  is  happening?"  said  he. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Michel.    "Baune  is  in  prison." 

"It  is  the  Republic  who  is  a  prisoner,"  said  Pierre 
Lefranc.    " Have  you  read  the  placards?  " 

"No." 

Pierre  Lefranc  explained  to  them  that  the  walls  at  that 
moment  were  covered  with  placards  which  the  curious 
crowd  were  thronging  to  read,  that  he  had  glanced  over 
one  of  them  at  the  corner  of  his  street,  and  that  the  blow 
had  fallen. 

"  The  blow  !  "  exclaimed  Michel.  "  Say  rather  the 
crime." 

Pierre  Lefranc  added  that  there  were  three  placards — 
one  decree  and  two  proclamations — all  three  on  white 
paper,  and  pasted  close  together. 

The  decree  was  printed  in  large  letters. 

The  ex-Constituent  Laissac,  who  lodged,  like  Michel  de 
Bourges,  in  the  neighborhood  (No.  4,  Cite  Gaillard),  then 
came  in.  He  brought  the  same  news,  and  announced 
further  arrests  which  had  been  made  during  the  night. 

There  was  not  a  minute  to  lose. 

They  went  to  impart  the  news  to  Yvan,  the  Secretary 
of  the  Assembly,  who  had  been  appointed  by  the  Left, 
and  who  lived  in  the  Rue  de  Boursault. 

An  immediate  meeting  was  necessary.  Those  Repub- 
lican Representatives  who  were  still  at  liberty  must  be 
warned  and  brought  together  without  delay. 

Versigny  said,  "  I  will  go  and  find  Victor  Hugo." 

It  was  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  was  awake  and 
was  working  in  bed.  My  servant  entered  and  said,  with 
an  air  of  alarm, — 

"  A  Representative  of  the  people  is  outside  who  wishes 
to  speak  to  you,  sir." 

"Who  is  it?" 

"  Monsieur  Versigny." 

"  Show  him  in." 

Versigny  entered,  and  told  me  the  state  of  affairs.  I 
sprang  out  of  bed. 

He  told  me  of  the  "rendezvous"  at  the  rooms  of  the 
ex-Constituent  Laissac. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  15 

t 

"Go  at  once  and  inform  the  other  Representatives,'* 
said  I. 
He  left  me. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WHAT   HAD    HAPPENED    DURING   THE   NIGHT. 

Previous  to  the  fatal  days  of  June,  1848,  the  esplanade 
of  the  Invalides  was  divided  into  eight  huge  grass  plots, 
surrounded  by  wooden  railings  and  enclosed  between  two 
groves  of  trees,  separated  by  a  street  running  perpendicu- 
larly to  the  front  of  the  Invalides.  Th;s  street  was  trav- 
ersed by  three  streets  running  parallel  to  the  Seine. 
There  were  large  lawns  upon  which  children  were  wont  to 
play.  The  centre  of  the  eight  grass  plots  was  marked  by 
a  pedestal  which  under  the  Empire  had  borne  the  bronze 
lion  of  St.  Mark,  which  had  been  brought  from  Venice ; 
under  the  Restoration  a  white  marble  statue  of  Louis 
XVIII.  ;  and  under  Louis  Philippe  a  plaster  bust  of 
Lafayette.  Owing  to  the  Palace  of  the  Constituent  Assem- 
bly having  been  nearly  seized  by  a  crowd  of  insurgents 
on  the  22d  of  June,  1848,  and  there  being  no  barracks 
in  the  neighborhood,  General  Cavaignac  had  constructed 
at  three  hundred  paces  from  the  Legislative  Palace,  on 
the  grass  plots  of  the  Invalides,  several  rows  of  long  huts, 
under  which  the  grass  was  hidden.  These  huts,  where 
three  or  four  thousand  men  could  be  accommodated, 
lodged  the  troops  specially  appointed  to  keep  watch  over 
the  National  Assembly. 

On  the  1st  December,  1851,  the  two  regiments  hunted 
on  the  Esplanade  were  the  6th  and  the  42d  Regiments 
of  the  Line,  the  6th  commanded  by  Colonel  Garderens  dc 
Boisse,  who  was  famous  before  the  Second  of  December, 
the  42d  by  Colonel  Espinasse,  who  became  famous  since 
that  date. 

The  ordinary  night-guard  of  the  Palace  of  the  Assembly 
was  composed  of  a  battalion  of  Infantry  and  of  thirty 
artillerymen,  with  a  captain.  The  Minister  of  War,  in 
addition,  sent  several  troopers  for  orderly  service.  Two 
mortars  and  six  pieces  of  cannon,  witli  their  ammunition 
wagons,  were  ranged  in  a  little  square   courtyard  situ- 


16  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

ated  on  the  right  of  the  Cour  d'Honneur,  and  which  was 
called  the  Cour  des  Canons.  The  Major,  the  military 
commandant  of  the  Palace,  was  placed  under  the  imme- 
diate control  of  the  Questors.*  At  nightfall  the  gratings 
and  the  doors  were  secured,  sentinels  were  posted,  instruc- 
tions were  issued  to  the  sentries,  and  the  Palace  was 
closed  like  a  fortress.  The  password  was  the  same  as  in 
the  Place  de  Paris. 

The  special  instructions  drawn  up  by  the  Questors  pro- 
hibited the  entrance  of  any  armed  force  other  than  the 
regiment  on  duty. 

On  the  night  of  the  1st  and  2d  of  December  the  Leg- 
islative Palace  was  guarded  by  a  battalion  of  the  42d. 

The  sitting  of  the  1st  of  December,  which  was  exceed- 
ingly peaceable,  and  had  been  devoted  to  a  discussion  on 
the  municipal  law,  had  finished  late,  and  was  terminated 
by  a  Tribunal  vote.  At  the  moment  when  M.  Baze,  one 
of  the  Questors,  ascended  the  Tribune  to  deposit  his  vote, 
a  Representative,  belonging  to  what  was  called  "  Les 
Bancs  Elyseens "  approached  him,  and  said  in  a  low 
tone,  "  To-night  you  will  be  carried  off."  Such  warnings 
as  these  were  received  every  day,  and,  as  we  have  already 
explained,  people  had  ended  by  paying  no  heed  to  them. 
Nevertheless,  immediately  after  the  sitting  the  Questors 
sent  for  the  Special  Commissary  of  Police  of  the  Assem- 
bly, President  Dupin  being  present.  When  interrogated, 
the  Commissary  declared  that  the  reports  of  his  agents 
indicated  "  dead  calm  " — such  was  his  expression — and 
that  assuredly  there  was  no  danger  to  be  apprehended 
for  that  night.  When  the  Questors  pressed  him  further, 
President  Dupin,  exclaiming  "  Bah ! "  left  the  room. 

On  that  same  day,  the  1st  December,  about  three  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  as  General  Leflo's  father-in-law  crossed 
the  boulevard  in  front  of  Tortoni's,  some  one  rapidly 
passed  by  him  and  whispered  in  his  ear  these  significant 
words,  "  Eleven  o'clock — midnight."  This  incident  ex- 
cited but  little  attention  at  the  Questure,  and  several 
even  laughed  at  it.  It  had  become  customary  with  them. 
Nevertheless  General  Leflo  would  not  go  to  bed  until  the 
hour  mentioned  had   passed  by,  and  remained   in  the 

*  The  Questors  were  officers  elected  by  the  Assembly,  whose  special 
duties  were  to  keep  and  audit  the  accounts,  and  Mho  controlled  all 
matters  affecting  the  social  economy  of  the  House. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  17 

offices  of  the  Questure  until  nearly  one  o'clock  in  the 
morning. 

The  shorthand  department  of  the  Assembly  was.  done 
out  of  doors  by  four  messengers  attached  to  the  3/oniteur, 
who  were  employed  to  carry  the  copy  of  the  shorthand 
writers  to  the  printing-office,  and  to  bring  back  the  proof- 
sheets  to  the  Palace  of  the  Assembly,  where  M.  Hippolyte 
Prevost  corrected  them.  M.  Hippolyte  Prevost  was  chief 
of  the  stenographic  staff,  and  in  that  capacity  had  apart- 
ments in  the  Legislative  Palace.  He  was  at  the  same 
time  editor  of  the  musical  feuilleton  of  the  Moniteur.  On 
the  1st  December  he  had  gone  to  the  Opera  Comique  for 
the  first  representation  of  a  new  piece,  and  did  not  return 
till  after  midnight.  The  fourth  messenger  from  the  Mon- 
iteur was  waiting  for  him  with  a  proof  of  the  last  slip  of 
the  sitting ;  M.  Prevost  corrected  the  proof,  and  the  mes- 
senger was  sent  off.  It  was  then  a  little  after  one  o'clock, 
profound  quiet  reigned  around,  and,  with  the  exception  of 
the  guard,  all  in  the  Palace  slept.  Towards  this  hour  of 
the  night,  a  singular  incident  occurred.  The  Captain-Ad- 
jutant-Major of  the  Guard  of  the  Assembly  came  to  the 
Major  and  said,  "  The  Colonel  has  sent  for  me,"  and  he 
added  according  to  military  etiquette,  "  Will  you  permit 
me  to  go  ?  "  The  Commandant  was  astonished.  "  Go," 
he  said  with  some  sharpness,  "  but  the  Colonel  is  wrong 
to  disturb  an  officer  on  duty."  One  of  the  soldiers  on 
guard,  without  understanding  the  meaning  of  the  words, 
heard  the  Commandant  pacing  up  and  down,  and  mutter- 
ing several  times,  "What  the  deuce  can  he  want?" 

Half  an  hour  afterwards  the  Adjutant-Major  returned. 
"  Well,"  asked  the  Commandant,  "  what  did  the  Colonel 
want  with  you?"  "Nothing,"  answered  the  Adjutant, 
"he  wished  to  give  me  the  orders  for  to-morrow's  duties." 
The  night  became  further  advanced.  Towards  four 
o'clock  the  Adjutant-Major  came  again  to  the  Major. 
"  Major,"  he  said,  "  the  Colonel  has  asked  for  me." 
"Again!"  exclaimed  the  Commandant.  "  This  is  becom- 
ing strange ;  nevertheless,  go." 

The  Adjutant-Major  had  amongst  other  duties  that  of 
giving  out  the  instructions  to  the  sentries,  and  con- 
sequently had  the  power  of  rescinding  them. 

As  soon  as  the  Adjutant-Major  had  gone  out,  the  Major, 
becoming  uneasy,  thought  that  it  was  his  duty  to  com- 
2 


18  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

municate  with  the  Military  Commandant  of  the  Palace, 
lie  went  upstairs  to  the  apartment  of  the  Commandant — 
Lieutenant  Colonel  Niols.  Colonel  Niols  had  gone  to  bed 
and  the  attendants  had  retired  to  their  rooms  in  the  attics. 
The  Major,  new  to  the  Palace,  groped  about  the  corridors, 
and,  knowing  little  about  the  various  rooms,  rang  at  a 
door  which  seemed  to  him  that  of  the  Military  Command- 
ant. Nobody  answered,  the  door  was  not  opened,  and 
the  Major  returned  downstairs,  without  having  been  able 
to  speak  to  anybody. 

On  his  part  the  Adjutant-Major  re-entered  the  Palace, 
but  the  Major  did  not  see  him  again.  The  Adjutant  re- 
mained near  the  grated  door  of  the  Place  Bourgogne, 
shrouded  in  his  cloak,  and  walking  up  and  down  the 
courtyard  as  though  expecting  some  one. 

At  the  instant  that  five  o'clock  sounded  from  the 
great  clock  of  the  dome,  the  soldiers  who  slept  in  the  hut- 
camp  before  the  Invalides  were  suddenly  awakened. 
Orders  were  given  in  a  low  voice  in  the  huts  to  take  up 
arms,  in  silence.  Shortly  afterwards  two  regiments, 
knapsack  on  back  were  marching  upon  the  Palace  of  the 
Assembly ;  they  were  the  6th  and  the  4'2d. 

At  this  same  stroke  of  five,  simultaneously  in  all  the 
quarters  of  Paris,  infantry  soldiers  filed  out  noiselessly 
from  every  barrack,  with  their  colonels  at  their  head. 
The  aides-de-camp  and  orderly  officers  of  Louis  Bonaparte, 
who  had  been  distributed  in  all  the  barracks,  superin- 
tended this  taking  up  of  arms.  The  cavalry  were  not  set 
in  motion  until  three-quarters  of  an  hour  after  the  in- 
fantry, for  fear  that  the  ring  of  the  horses'  hoofs  on  the 
stones  should  wake  slumbering  Paris  too  soon. 

M.  de  Persigny,  who  had  brought  from  the  Elysee  to 
the  camp  of  the  Invalides  the  order  to  take  up  arms, 
marched  at  the  head  of  the  4"2d,  by  the  side  of  Colonel 
Espinasse.  A  story  is  current  in  the  army,  for  at  the 
present  day,  wearied  as  people  are  with  dishonorable  in- 
cidents, these  occurrences  are  yet  told  with  a  species  of 
gloomy  indifference — the  story  is  current  that  at  the  mo- 
ment of  setting  out  with  his  regiment  one  of  the  colonels 
who  could  be  named  hesitated,  and  that  the  emissary 
from  the  Elysee,  taking  a  sealed  packet  from  his  pocket, 
said  to  him,  "Colonel,  I  admit  that  we  are  running  a  great 
risk.     Here  in  this  envelope,  which  I  have  been  charged 


THE  III  STORY  OF  A  CRIME.  19 

to  hand  to  you,  are  a  hundred  thousand  francs  in  bank- 
notes for  contingencies?  The  envelope  was  accepted, 
and  the  regiment  set  out.  On  the  evening  of  the  2d  of 
December  the  colonel  said  to  a  lady,  "  This  morning  I 
earned  a  hundred  thousand  francs  and  my  General's  epau- 
lets."    The  lady  showed  him  the  door. 

Xavier  Durrieu,  who  tells  us  this  story,  had  the  curios- 
ity later  on  to  see  this  lady.  She  confirmed  the  story. 
Yes,  certainly  !  she  had  shut  the  door  in  the  face  of  this 
wretch ;  a  soldier,  a  traitor  to  his  flag  who  dared  visit 
her !  She  receive  such  a  man  ?  No !  she  could  not  do 
that,  "and,"  states  Xavier  Durrieu,  she  added,  "And  yet 
I  have  no  character  to  lose." 

Another  mystery  was  in  progress  at  the  Prefecture  of 
Police. 

Those  belated  inhabitants  of  the  Cite  who  may  have 
returned  home  at  a  late  hour  of  the  night  might  have 
^  noticed  a  large  number  of  street  cabs  loitering  in  scattered 
J  groups  at  different  points  round  about  the  Rue  de  Jeru- 
■J  salem. 

From  eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  under  pretext  of 

the  arrival  of  refugees  at  Paris  from  Genoa  and  London, 

the  Brigade  of  Surety  and  the  eight  hundred  ser gents  de 

mile  had  been  retained  in  the  Prefecture.    At  three  o'clock 

y^  _  in  the  morning  a  summons  had  been  sent  to  the  f orty- 

W— 'eight  Commissaries  of  Paris  and  of  the  suburbs,  and  also 

J*^"  to  the  peace  officers.     An  hour  afterwards  all  of  them 

^~\  arrived.     They   were  ushered  into  a  separate  chamber, 

^  and  isolated  from  each  other  as  much  as  possible.     At 

\J  five  o'clock  a  bell  was  sounded  in  the  Prefect's  cabinet. 

The  Prefect  Maupas  called  the  Commissaries  of  Police 

one  after  another  into  his  cabinet,  revealed  the  plot  to 

them,  and  allotted  to  each  his  portion  of  the  crime.    None 

refused;  many  thanked  him. 

It  was  a  question  of  arresting  at  their  own  homes 
seventy-eight  Democrats  who  were  influential  in  their 
districts,  and  dreaded  by  the  Elysee  as  possible  chieftains 
of  barricades.  It  was  necessary,  a  still  more  daring  out- 
rage, to  arrest  at  their  houses  sixteen  Representatives  of 
the  People.  For  this  last  task  were  chosen  among  the 
Commissaries  of  Police  such  of  those  magistrates  who 
seemed  the  most  likely  to  become  ruffians.  Amongst 
these  were  divided  the  Representatives.     Each  had  his 


: 


20  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

man.  Sieur  Courtille  had  Charras,  Sieur  Desgranges  had 
Nadaud,  Sieur  Hubaut  the  elder  had  M.  Thiers,  and  Sieur 
Ilubaut  the  younger  General  Bedeau,  General  Changar- 
nier  was  allotted  to  Lerat,  and  General  Cavaignac  to 
Colin.  Sieur  Dourlens  took  Representative  Valentin, 
Sieur  Benoist  Representative  Miot,  Sieur  Allard  Repre- 
sentative Cholat,  Sieur  Barlet  took  Roger  (Du  Nord), 
General  Lamoriciere  fell  to  Commissary  Blanchet,  Com- 
missary Gronfler  had  Representative  Greppo,  and  Com- 
missary Boudrot  Representative  Lagrange.  The  Questors 
were  similarly  allotted,  Monsieur  Baze  to  the  Sieur  Pri- 
morin,  and  General  Leflo  to  Sieur  Bertoglio. 

Warrants  with  the  name  of  the  Representatives  had 
been  drawn  up  in  the  Prefect's  private  Cabinet.  Blanks 
had  been  only  left  for  the  names  of  the  Commissaries. 
These  were  filled  in  at  the  moment  of  leaving. 

In  addition  to  the  armed  force  which  was  appointed  to 
assist  them,  it  had  been  decided  that  each  Commissary 
should  be  accompanied  by  two  escorts,  one  composed  of 
ser gents  de  ville,  the  other  of  police  agents  in  plain  clothes. 
As  Prefect  Maupas  had  told  M.  Bonaparte,  the  Captain 
of  the  Republican  Guard,  Baudinet,  was  associated  with 
Commissary  Lerat  in  the  arrest  of  General  Changarnier. 

Towards  half-past  five  the  fiacres  which  were  in  wait- 
ing were  called  up,  and  all  started,  each  with  his  instruc- 
tions. 

During  this  time,  in  another  corner  of  Paris — the  old 
Rue  du  Temple — in  that  ancient  Soubise  Mansion  which 
had  been  transformed  into  a  Royal  Printing  Office,  and  is 
to-day  a  National  Printing  Office,  another  section  of  the 
Crime  was  being  organized. 

Towards  one  in  the  morning  a  passer-by  who  had 
reached  the  old  Rue  du  Temple  by  the  Rue  de  Vieilles- 
Ilaudriettes,  noticed  at  the  junction  of  these  two  streets 
several  long  and  high  windows  brilliantly  lighted  up. 
These  were  the  windows  of  the  work-rooms  of  the  National 
Printing  Office.  lie  turned  to  the  right  and  entered  the 
old  Rue  du  Temple,  and  a  moment  afterwards  paused 
before  the  crescent-shaped  entrance  of  the  front  of  the 
printing-office.  The  principal  door  was  shut,  two  sentinels 
guarded  the  side  door.  Through  this  little  door,  which 
was  ajar,  he  glanced  into  the  courtyard  of  the  printing- 
office,  and  saw  it  filled  with  soldiers.     The  soldiers  were 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  21 

silent,  no  sound  could  be  heard,  but  the  glistening  of  their 
bayonets  could  be  seen.  The  passer-by  surprised,  drew 
nearer.  One  of  the  sentinels  thrust  him  rudely  back, 
crying  out,  "  Be  off." 

Like  the  sergents  de  ville  at  the  Prefecture  of  Police,  the 
workmen  had  been  retained  at  the  National  Printing 
Office  under  plea  of  night- work.  At  the  same  time  that 
M.  Hippoly te  Prevost  returned  to  the  Legislative  Palace, 
the  manager  of  the  National  Printing  Office  reentered 
his  office,  also  returning  from  the  Opera  Comique,  where 
he  had  been  to  see  the  new  piece,  which  was  by  his  brother, 
M.  de  St.  Georges.  Immediately  on  his  return  the 
manager,  to  whom  had  come  an  order  from  the  Elysee 
during  the  day,  took  up  a  pair  of  pocket  pistols,  and  went 
down  into  the  vestibule,  which  communicates  by  means 
of  a  few  steps  with  the  courtyard.  Shortly  afterwards 
the  door  leading  to  the  street  opened,  a  fiacre  entered,  a 
man  who  carried  a  large  portfolio  alighted.  The  manager 
went  up  to  the  man,  and  said  to  him,  "Is  that  you,  Mon- 
sieur de  Beville?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  man. 

The  fiacre  was  put  up,  the  horses  placed  in  a  stable,  and 
the  coachman  shut  up  in  a  parlor,  where  they  gave  him 
drink,  and  placed  a  purse  in  his  hand.  Bottles  of  wine 
and  louis  d'or  form  the  groundwork  of  this  kind  of  politics. 
The  coachman  drank  and  then  went  to  sleep.  The  door 
of  the  parlor  Avas  bolted. 

The  large  door  of  the  courtyard  of  the  printing-office 
was  hardly  shut  than  it  reopened,  gave  passage  to  armed 
men,  who  entered  in  silence,  and  then  reclosed.  The  ar- 
rivals were  a  company  of  the  Gendarmerie  Mobile,  the 
fourth  of  the  first  battalion,  commanded  by  a  captain 
named  La  Roche  d'Oisy.  As  may  be  remarked  by  the 
result,  for  all  delicate  expeditions  the  men  of  the  (•><></> 
d'etat  took  care  to  employ  the  Gendarmerie  Mobile  and 
the  Republican  Guard,  that  it  is  to  say  the  two  corps 
almost  entirely  composed  of  former  Municipal  Guards, 
bearing  at  heart  a  revengeful  remembrance  of  the  events 
of  February. 

Captain  La  Roche  d'Oisy  brought  a  letter  from  the 
Minister  of  War,  which  placed  himself  and  his  soldiers  at 
the  disposition  of  the  manager  of  the  National  Printing 
Office.     The  muskets  were  loaded  without  a  word  being 


22.  T1IE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

spoken.  Sentinels  were  placed  in  the  workrooms,  in  the 
corridors,  at  the  doors,  at  the  windows,  in  fact,  every- 
where, two  being  stationed  at  the  door  leading  into  the 
street.  The  captain  asked  what  instructions  he  should 
give  to  the  sentries.  "Nothing  more  simple,"  said  the 
man  who  had  come  in  the  fiacre.  "  Whoever  attempts  to 
leave  or  to  open  a  window,  shoot  him." 

This  man,  who,  in  fact,  was  De  Beville,  orderly  officer 
to  M.  Bonaparte,  withdrew  with  the  manager  into  the 
large  cabinet  on  the  first  story,  a  solitary  room  which 
looked  out  on  the  garden.  There  he  communicated  to  the 
manager  what  he  had  brought  with  him,  the  decree  of  the 
dissolution  of  the  Assembly,  the  appeal  to  the  Army,  the 
appeal  to  the  People,  the  decree  convoking  the  electors, 
and  in  addition,  the  proclamation  of  the  Prefect  Maupas 
and  his  letter  to  the  Commissaries  of  Police.  The  four 
first  documents  were  entirely  in  the  handwriting  of  the 
President,  and  here  and  there  some  erasures  might  be 
noticed. 

The  compositors  were  in  waiting.  Each  man  was  placed 
between  two  gendarmes,  and  was  forbidden  to  utter  a 
single  word,  and  then  the  documents  which  had  to  be 
printed  were  distributed  throughout  the  room,  being  cut 
up  in  very  small  pieces,  so  that  an  entire  sentence  could 
not  be  read  by  one  workman.  The  manager  announced 
that  he  would  give  them  an  hour  to  compose  the  whole. 
The  different  fragments  were  finally  brought  to  Colonel 
Beville,  who  put  them  together  and  corrected  the  proof 
sheets.  The  machining  was  conducted  with  the  same 
precautions,  each  press  being  between  two  soldiers.  Not- 
withstanding all  possible  diligence  the  work  lasted  two 
hours.  The  gendarmes  watched  over  the  workmen. 
Beville  watched  over  St.  Georges. 

When  the  work  was  finished  a  suspicious  incident  oc- 
curred, which  greatly  resembled  a  treason  within  a  trea- 
son. To  a  traitor  a  greater  traitor.  This  species  of  crime 
is  subject  to  such  accidents.  Beville  and  St.  Georges, 
the  two  trusty  confidants  in  whose  hands  lay  the  secret 
of  the  co'itp  d'etat,  that  is  to  say  the  head  of  the  President ; 
— that  secret,  which  ought  at  no  price  to  be  allowed  to 
transpire  before  the  appointed  hour,  under  risk  of  causing 
everything  to  miscarry,  took  it  into  their  heads  to  confide 
it  at  once  to  two  hundred  men,  in  order  "to  test  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  23 

effect,''  as  the  ex-Colonel  Beville  said  later  on,  rather 
naively.  They  read  the  mysterious  document  which  had 
just  been  printed  to  the  Gendarmes  Mobiles,  who  were 
drawn  up  in  the  courtyard.  These  ex-municipal  guards 
applauded.  If  they  had  hooted,  it  might  be  asked  what 
the  two  experimentalists  in  the  coup  d'etat  would  have 
done.  Perhaps  M.  Bonaparte  would  have  waked  up  from 
his  dream  at  Vincennes. 

The  coachman  was  then  liberated,  the  fiacre  was  horsed, 
and  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  orderly  officer  and 
the  manager  of  the  National  Printing  Office,  henceforward 
two  criminals,  arrived  at  the  Prefecture  of  Police  with  the 
parcels  of  the  decrees.  Then  began  for  them  the  brand 
of  shame.     Prefect  Maupas  took  them  by  the  hand. 

Bands  of  bill-stickers,  bribed  for  the  occasion,  started 
in  every  direction,  carrying  with  them  the  decrees  and 
proclamations. 

This  was  precisely  the  hour  at  which  the  Palace  of  the 
National  Assembly  was  invested.  In  the  Rue  de  l'Uni- 
versite  there  is  a  door  of  the  Palace  which  is  the  old  en- 
trance to  the  Palais  Bourbon,  and  which  opened  into  the 
avenue  which  leads  to  the  house  of  the  President  of  the 
Assembly.  This  door,  termed  the  Presidency  door,  was 
according  to  custom  guarded  by  a  sentry.  For  some  time 
past  the  Adjutant-Major,  who  had  been  twice  sent  for 
during  the  night  by  Colonel  Espinasse,  had  remained 
motionless  and  silent,  close  by  the  sentinel.  Five  minutes 
after,  having  left  the  huts  of  the  Invalides,  the  42d  Regi- 
ment of  the  line,  followed  at  some  distance  by  the  Oth 
Regiment,  which  had  marched  by  the  Rue  de  Bourgogne, 
emerged  from  the  Rue  de  l'LTniversite.  "  The  regiment," 
says  an  eye-witness,  "  marched  as  one  steps  in  a  sick- 
room." It  arrived  with  a  stealthy  step  before  the  Presi- 
dency door.     This  ambuscade  came  to  surprise  the  law. 

The  sentry,  seeing  these  soldiers  arrive,  halted,  but  at 
the  moment  when  he  was  going  to  challenge  them  with  a 
qui-vive,  the  Adjutant-Major  seized  his  arm,  and,  in  his 
capacity  as  the  officer  empowered  to  countermand  all 
instructions,  ordered  him  to  give  free  passage  to  the  42d, 
and  at  the  same  time  commanded  the  amazed  porter  to 
open  the  door.  The  door  turned  upon  its  hinges,  the 
soldiers  spread  themselves  through  the  avenue.  Persigny 
entered,  and  said,  "It  is  done." 


24  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

The  National  Assembly  was  invaded. 

At  the  noise  of  the  footsteps  the  Commandant  Meunier 
ran  up.  "  Commandant,"  Colonel  Espinasse  cried  out  to 
him,  "I  come  to  relieve  your  battalion."  The  Com- 
mandant turned  pale  for  a  moment,  and  his  eyes  remained 
fixed  on  the  ground.  Then  suddenly  he  put  his  hands  to 
his  shoulders,  and  tore  off  his  epaulets,  he  drew  his  sword, 
broke  it  across  his  knee,  threw  the  two  fragments  on  the 
pavement,  and,  trembling  with  rage,  exclaimed  with  a 
solemn  voice,  "  Colonel,  you  disgrace  the  number  of  your 
regiment." 

"All  right,  all  right,"  said  Espinasse. 

The  Presidency  door  was  left  open,  but  all  the  other  en- 
trances remained  closed.  All  the  guards  were  relieved, 
all  the  sentinels  changed,  and  the  battalion  of  the  night 
guard  was  sent  back  to  the  camp  of  the  Invalides,  the 
soldiers  piled  their  arms  in  the  avenue,  and  in  the  Cour 
d'Honneur.  The  42d,  in  profound  silence,  occupied  the 
doors  outside  and  inside,  the  courtyard,  the  reception- 
rooms,  the  galleries,  the  corridors,  the  passages,  while 
every  one  still  slept  in  the  Palace. 

Shortly  afterwards  arrived  two  of  those  little  chariots 
which  are  called  "  forty  sous,"  and  two  jiacres,  escorted 
by  two  detachments  of  the  Republican  Guard  and  of  the 
Chasseurs  de  Vincennes,  and  by  several  squads  of  police. 
The  Commissaries  Bertoglio  and  Primorin  alighted  from 
the  two  chariots. 

As  these  carriages  drove  up  a  personage,  bald,  but 
still  young,  was  seen  to  appear  at  the  grated  door  of  the 
Place  de  Bourgogne.  This  personage  had  all  the  air  of  a 
man  about  town,  who  had  just  come  from  the  opera,  and, 
in  fact,  he  had  come  from  thence,  after  having  passed 
through  a  den.  He  came  from  the  Elysee.  It  was  De 
Morny.  For  an  instant  he  watched  the  soldiers  piling  their 
arms,  and  then  went  on  to  the  Presidency  door.  There 
he  exchanged  a  few  words  with  M.  de  Persigny.  A  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  afterwards,  accompanied  by  250  Chasseurs 
de  Vincennes,  he  took  possession  of  the  ministry  of  the 
Interior,  startled  M.  de  Thorigny  in  his  bed,  and  handed 
him  brusquely  a  letter  of  thanks  from  Monsieur  Bonaparte. 
Some  days  previously  honest  M.  de  Thorigny,  whose  in- 
genuous remarks  we  have  already  cited,  said  to  a  group 
of  men  near  whom  M.  de  Morny  was  passing,  "  How  these 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  25 

men  of  the  Mountain  calumniate  the  President !  The  man 
who  would  break  his  oath,  who  would  achieve  a  coup, 
d'etat  must  necessarily  be  a  worthless  wretch."  Awak- 
ened rudely  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  relieved  of  Ids 
post  as  Minister  like  the  sentinels  of  the  Assembly,  the 
worthy  man,  astounded,  and  rubbing  his  eyes,  muttered, 
"  Eh !  then  the  President  is  a ." 

"  Yes,"  said  Morny,  with  a  burst  of  laughter. 

He  who  writes  these  lines  knew  Morny.  Morny  and 
Walewsky  held  in  the  quasi-reigning  family  the  posi- 
tions, one  of  Royal  bastard,  the  other  of  Imperial  bastard. 
Who  was  Morny  ?  We  will  say,  "  A  noted  wit,  an  in- 
triguer, but  in  no  way  austere,  a  friend  of  Romieu,  and  a 
supporter  of  Guizot,  possessing  the  manners  of  the  world, 
and  the  habits  of  the  roulette  table,  self-satisfied,  clever, 
combining  a  certain  liberality  of  ideas  with  a  readiness  to 
accept  useful  crimes,  finding  means  to  wear  a  gracious 
smile  witli  bad  teeth,  leading  a  life  of  pleasure,  dissipated 
but  reserved,  ugly,  good-tempered,  fierce,  well-dressed, 
intrepid,  willingly  leaving  a  brother  prisoner  under  bolts 
and  bars,  and  ready  to  risk  his  head  for  a  brother  Em- 
peror, having  the  same  mother  as  Louis  Bonaparte,  and 
like  Louis  Bonaparte,  having  some  father  or  other,  being 
able  to  call  himself  Beauharnais,  being  able  to  call  him- 
self Flahaut,  and  yet  calling  himself  Morny,  pursuing 
literature  as  far  as  light  comedy,  and  politics,  as  far  as 
tragedy,  a  deadly  free  liver,  possessing  all  the  frivolity 
consistent  with  assassination,  capable  of  being  sketched 
by  Marivaux  and  treated  of  by  Tacitus,  without  con- 
science, irreproachably  elegant,  infamous,  and  amiable,  at 
need  a  perfect  duke.     Such  was  this  malefactor." 

It  was  not  yet  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Troops  be- 
gan to  mass  themselves  on  the  Place  de  la  Concorde, 
where  Leroy-Saint-Arnaud  on  horseback  held  a  review. 

The  Commissaries  of  Police,  Bertoglio  and  Primorin 
ranged  two  companies  in  order  under  the  vault  of  the 
great  staircase  of  the  Questure,  but  did  not  ascend  that 
way.  They  were  accompanied  by  agents  of  police,  who 
knew  the  most  secret  recesses  of  the  Palais  Bourbon,  and 
who  conducted  them  through  various  passages. 

General  Leflo  was  lodged  in  the  Pavilion  inhabited  in 
the  time  of  the  Due  de  Bourbon  by  Monsieur  Feucheres. 
That  night  General  Leflo  had  slaying  with  him  his  sister 


26  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

and  her  husband,  who  were  visiting  Paris,  and  who  slept 
in  a  room,  the  door  of  which  led  into  one  of  the  corridors 
of  the  Palace.  Commissary  Bertoglio  knocked  at  the 
door,  opened  it,  and  together  with  his  agents  abruptly 
burst  into  the  room,  where  a  woman  was  in  bed.  The 
general's  brother-in-law  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  cried  out 
to  the  Questor,  whoslept  in  an  adjoining  room,  "  Adolphe, 
the  doors  are  being  forced,  the  Palace  is  full  of  soldiers. 
Get  up ! " 

The  General  opened  his  eyes,  he  saw  Commissary  Ber- 
toglio  standing  beside  his  bed. 

He  sprang  up. 

"  General,"  said  the  Commissary,  "  I  have  come  to  ful- 
fil a  duty." 

"  I  understand,"  said  General  Leflo,  "  you  are  a  traitor." 

The  Commissary  stammering  out  the  words,  "  Plot 
against  the  safety  of  the  State,"  displayed  a  warrant. 
The  General,  without  pronouncing  a  word,  struck  this 
infamous  paper  with  the  back  of  his  hand. 

Then  dressing  himself,  he  put  on  his  full  uniform  of 
Constantine  and  of  Medeah,  thinking  in  his  imaginative, 
soldier-like  loyalty  that  there  were  still  generals  of  Africa 
for  the  soldiers  whom  he  would  find  on  his  way.  All  the 
generals  now  remaining  were  brigands.  His  wife  em- 
braced him ;  his  son,  a  child  of  seven  years,  in  his  night- 
shirt, and  in  tears,  said  to  the  Commissary  of  Police, 
"  Mercy,  Monsieur  Bonaparte." 

The  General,  while  clasping  his  wife  in  his  arms,  whis- 
pered in  her  ear,  "  There  is  artillery  in  the  courtyard,  try 
and  fire  a  cannon." 

The  Commissary  and  his  men  led  him  away.  He  re- 
garded these  policemen  with  contempt,  and  did  not  speak 
to  them,  but  when  he  recognized  Colonel  Espinasse,  his 
military  and  Breton  heart  swelled  with  indignation. 

"Colonel  Espinasse,"  said  he,  "you  are  a  villain,  and  T 
hope  to  live  long  enough  to  tear  the  buttons  from  your 
uniform." 

Colonel  Espinasse  hung  his  head,  and  stammered,  "  I 
do  not  know  you." 

A  major  waved  his  sword,  and  cried,  "  We  have  had 
enough  of  lawyer  generals."  Some  soldiers  crossed  their 
bayonets  before  the  unarmed  prisoner,  three  ser gents  de 
ville  pushed  him  into  a  fiacre,  and  a  sub-lieutenant  ap- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  27 

proaching  the  carriage,  and  looking  in  the  face  of  the  man 
who,  if  he  were  a  citizen,  was  his  Representative,  and  if 
he  were  a  soldier  was  his  general,  flung  this  abominable 
word  at  him,  "  Canaille !  " 

Meanwhile  Commissary  Primorin  had  gone  by  a  more 
roundabout  way  in  order  the  more  surely  to  surprise  the 
other  Questor,  M.  Baze.  , 

Out  of  M.  Baze's  apartment  a  door  led  to  the  lobby 
communicating  with  the  chamber  of  the  Assembly.  Sieur 
Primorin  knocked  at  the  door.  "  Who  is  there '? "  asked 
a  servant,  who  was  dressing.  "  The  Commissary  of 
Police,"  replied  Primorin.  The  servant,  thinking  that  lie 
was  the  Commissary  of  Police  of  the  Assembly,  opened 
the  door. 

At  this  moment  M.  Baze,  who  had  heard  the  noise,  and 
had  just  awaked,  put  on  a  dressing-gown,  and  cried,  "  Do 
not  open  the  door." 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  these  words  when  a  man  in 
plain  clothes  and  three  serpents  de  mile  in  uniform  rushed 
into  his  chamber.  The  man,  opening  his  coat,  displayed 
his  scarf  of  office,  asking  M.  Baze,  "Do  you  recognize 
this?" 

"  You  are  a  worthless  wretch,"  answered  the  Questor. 

The  police  agents  laid  their  hands  on  M.  Baze.  "  You  will 
not  take  me  away,"  he  said.  "  You  a  Commissary  of  Police, 
you,  who  are  a  magistrate,  and  know  what  you  are  doing, 
you  outrage  the  National  Assembly,  you  violate  the  law, 
you  are  a  criminal ! "  A  hand-to-hand  struggle  ensued — 
four  against  one.  Madame  Baze  and  her  two  little  girls 
giving  vent  to  screams,  the  servant  being  thrust  back 
with  blows  by  the  ser gents  de  mile.  "You  are  ruffians," 
cried  out  Monsieur  Baze.  They  carried  him  away  by 
main  force  in  their  arms,  still  struggling,  naked,  his 
dressing-gown  being  torn  to  shreds,  his  body  being  covered 
with  blows,  his  wrist  torn  and  bleeding. 

The  stairs,  the  landing,  the  courtyard,  were  full  of 
soldiers  with  fixed  bayonets  and  grounded  arms.  The 
Questor  spoke  to  them.  "  Your  Representatives  are  being 
arrested,  you  have  not  received  your  arms  to  break  the 
laws ! "  A  sergeant  was  wearing  a  brand-new  cross. 
"  Have  you  been  given  the  cross  for  this  ?  "  The  sergeant 
answered,  "We  only  know  one  master."  "I  note  your 
number,"  continued  M.  Baze.     "  You   are  a  dishonored 


28  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

regiment."  The  soldiers  listened  with  a  stolid  air,  and 
seemed  still  asleep.  Commissary  Primorin  said  to  them, 
"  Do  not  answer,  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  you."  They 
led  the  Questor  across  the  courtyard  to  the  guard-house 
at  the  Porte  Noire. 

This  was  the  name  which  was  given  to  a  little  door  con- 
trived under  the  vault  opposite  the  treasury  of  the  As- 
sembly, and  which  opened  upon  the  Rue  de  Bourgogne, 
facing  the  Rue  de  Lille. 

Several  sentries  were  placed  at  the  door  of  the  guard- 
house, and  at  the  top  of  the  flight  of  steps  which  led 
thither,  M.  Baze  being  left  there  in  charge  of  three  sergents 
de  ville.  Several  soldiers,  without  their  weapons,  and  in 
their  shirt-sleeves,  came  in  and  out.  The  Questor  appealed 
to  them  in  the  name  of  military  honor.  "  Do  not  answer," 
said  the  sergent  de  ville  to  the  soldiers. 

M.  Baze's  two  little  girls  had  followed  him  with  terrified 
eyes,  and  when  they  lost  sight  of  him  the  youngest  burst 
into  tears.  "  Sister,"  said  the  elder,  who  was  seven  years 
old,  "  let  us  say  our  prayers,"  and  the  two  children,  clasp- 
ing their  hands,  knelt  down. 

Commissary  Primorin,  with  his  swarm  of  agents,  burst 
into  the  Questor's  study,  and  laid  hands  on  everything 
The  first  papers  which  he  perceived  on  the  middle  of  the 
table,  and  which  he  seized,  were  the  famous  decrees  which 
had  been  prepared  in  the  event  of  the  Assembly  having 
voted  the  proposal  of  the  Questors.  All  the  drawers  were 
opened  and  searched.  This  overhauling  of  M.  Baze's 
papers,  which  the  Commissary  of  Police  termed  a  domi- 
ciliary visit,  lasted  more  than  an  hour. 

M.  Baze's  clothes  had  been  taken  to  him,  and  he  had 
dressed.  When  the  "  domiciliary  visit "  was  over,  he  was 
taken  out  of  the  guard-house.  There  was  a  fiacre  in  the 
courtyard,  into  which  he  entered,  together  with  the  three 
sergents  de  ville.  The  vehicle,  in  order  to  reach  the  Pres- 
idency door,  passed  by  the  Cour  d'  ITonneur  and  then  by 
the  Courde  Canonis.  Day  was  breaking.  M.  Baze  looked 
into  the  courtyard  to  see  if  the  cannon  were  still  there. 
He  saw  the  ammunition  wagons  ranged  in  order  with 
their  shafts  raised,  but  the  places  of  the  six  cannon  and 
the  two  mortars  were  vacant. 

In  the  avenue  of  the  Presidency  the  fiacre  stopped  for  a 
moment.     Two  lines  of  soldiers,  standing  at  ease,  lined 


THE  IIISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  29 

the  footpaths  of  the  avenue.  At  the  foot  of  a  tree  were 
grouped  three  men :  Colonel  Espinasse,  whom  M.  Baze 
knew  and  recognized,  a  species  of  Lieutenant-Colonel,  who 
wore  a  black  and  orange  ribbon  round  his  neck,  and  a 
Major  of  Lancers,  all  three  sword  in  hand,  consulting  to- 
gether. The  windows  of  the  fiacre  were  closed  ;  M.  Baze 
wished  to  lower  them  to  appeal  to  these  men  ;  the  sergents 
de  ville  seized  his  arms.  The  Commissary  Primorin  then 
came  up,  and  was  about  to  re-enter  the  little  chariot  for 
two  persons  which  had  brought  him. 

"  Monsieur  Baze,"  said  he,  with  that  villainous  kind  of 
courtesy  which  the  agents  of  the  coup  cVteat  willingly 
blended  with  their  crime,  "you  must  be  uncomfortable 
with  those  three  men  in  the  fiacre.  You  are  cramped ; 
come  in  with  me." 

"  Let  me  alone,"  said  the  prisoner.  "  With  these  three 
men  I  am  cramped ;  with  you  I  should  be  contami- 
nated." 

An  escort  of  infantry  was  ranged  on  both  sides  of  the 
fiacre.  Colonel  Espinasse  called  to  the  coachman,  "Drive 
slowly  by  the  Quai  d'Orsay  until  you  meet  a  cavalry 
escort.  When  the  cavalry  shall  have  assumed  the  charge, 
the  infantry  can  come  back."     They  set  out. 

As  the  fiacre  turned  into  the  Quai  d'Orsay  a  picket  of 
the  7th  Lancers  arrived  at  full  speed.  It  was  the  escort : 
the  troopers  surrounded  the  fiacre,  and  the  whole  galloped 
off. 

No  incident  occurred  (luring  the  journey.  Here  and 
there,  at  the  noise  of  the  horses'  hoofs,  windows  were 
opened  and  heads  put  forth  ;  and  the  prisoner,  who  had 
at  length  succeeded  in  lowering  a  window  heard  startled 
voices  saying,  "What  is  the  matter?" 

The  fiacre  stopped.  "Where  are  we?"  asked  M.  Baze. 
"At  Mazas,"  said  a  sergent  de  ville. 

The  Questor  was  taken  to  the  office  of  the  prison.  Just 
as  ho  entered  he  saw  Baune  and  Xadaud  being  brought 
out.  There  was  a  table  in  the  centre,  at  which  Commis- 
sary Primorin,  who  had  followed  the  fiacre  in  his  chariot, 
had  just  seated  himself.  While  the  Commissary  was 
writing,  M.  Baze  noticed  on  the  table  a  paper  which  was 
evidently  a  jail  register,  on  which  were  these  names, 
Avritten  in  the  following  order:  Lamoriciere,  Charms, 
Cavaignac,  Changarnier,  Leflo, Thiers,  Bedeau,  Roger  (du 


30  TI1E  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Nord),  Chambolle.  This  was  probably  the  order  in  which 
the  Representatives  had  arrived  at  the  prison. 

When  Sieur  Primorin  had  finished  writing,  M.  Baze 
said,  "  Now,  you  will  be  good  enough  to  receive  my  pro- 
test, and  add  it  to  your  official  report."  "  It  is  not  an 
official  report,"  objected  the  Commissary,  "  it  is  simply  an 
order  for  committal."  "I  intend  to  write  my  protest  at 
once,"  replied  M.  Baze.  "You  will  have  plenty  of  time 
in  your  cell,"  remarked  a  man  who  stood  by  the  table. 
M.  Baze  turned  round.  "Who  are  you?"  "lam  the 
governor  of  the  prison,"  said  the  man.  "  In  that  case," 
replied  M.  Baze,  "  I  pity  you,  for  you  are  aware  of  the 
crime  you  are  committing."  The  man  turned  pale,  and 
stammered  a  few  unintelligible  words. 

The  Commissary  rose  from  his  seat ;  M.  Baze  briskly 
took  possession  of  his  chair,  seated  himself  at  the  table, 
and  said  to  Sieur  Primorin,  "You  are  a  public  officer ; 
I  request  you  to  add  my  protest  to  your  official  report." 
"Very  well,"  said  the  Commissary,  "let  it  be  so."  Baze 
wrote  the  protest  as  follows  : — 

"I,  the  undersigned,  Jean-Didier  Baze,  Representative 
of  the  People,  and  Questor  of  the  National  Assembly, 
carried  off  by  violence  from  my  residence  in  the  Palace  of 
the  National  Assembly,  and  conducted  to  this  prison  by 
an  armed  force  which  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  resist, 
protest  in  the  name  of  the  National  Assembly  and  in 
my  own  name  against  the  outrage  on  national  representa- 
tion committed  upon  my  colleagues  and  upon  myself. 

"  Given  at  Mazas  on  the  2d  December,  1851,  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"Bazi;." 

While  this  was  taking  place  at  Mazas,  the  soldiers 
were  laughing  and  drinking  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
Assembly.  They  made  their  coffee  in  the  saucepans. 
They  had  lighted  enormous  fires  in  the  courtyard ;  the 
ilames,  fanned  by  the  wind,  at  times  reached  the  walls  of 
the  Chamber.  A  superior  official  of  the  Questure,  an 
officer  of  the  National  Guard,  Ramond  de  la  Croisette, 
ventured  to  say  to  them,  "  You  will  set  the  Palace  on 
fire ;  "  whereupon  a  soldier  struck  him  a  blow  with  his  fist. 

Four  of   the   pieces  taken  from  the  Cour  de   Canons 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  31 

were  ranged  in  battery  order  against  the  Assembly ;  two 
on  the  Place  de  Bourgogne  were  pointed  towards  the 
grating,  and  two  on  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde  were  pointed 
towards  the  grand  staircase. 

As  side-note  to  this  instructive  tale  let  us  mention  a 
curious  fact.  This  42d  Regiment  of  the  line  was  the 
same  which  had  arrested  Louis  Bonaparte  at  Boulogne. 
In  1840  this  regiment  lent  its  aid  to  the  law  against  the 
conspirator.  In  1851  it  lent  its  aid  to  the  conspirator 
against  the  law :  such  is  the  beauty  of  passive  obedience. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

OTHER    DOINGS  OF    THE  NIGHT. 

During  the  same  night  in  all  parts  of  Paris  acts  of 
brigandage  took  place.  Unknown  men  leading  armed 
troops,  and  themselves  armed  with  hatchets,  mallets, 
pincers,  crow-bars,  life-preservers,  swords  hidden  under 
their  coats,  pistols,  of  which  the  butts  could  be  distin- 
guished under  the  folds  of  their  cloaks,  arrived  in  silence 
before  a  house,  occupied  the  street,  encircled  the  ap- 
proaches, picked  the  lock  of  the  door,  tied  up  the  porter, 
invaded  the  stairs,  and  burst  through  the  doors  upon  a 
sleeping  man,  and  when  that  man,  awakening  with  a  start, 
asked  of  these  bandits,  "  Who  are  you?"  their  leader 
answered,  "A  Commissary  of  Police."  So  it  happened  to 
Lamoriciere  who  was  seized  by  Blanchet,  who  threatened 
him  with  the  gag;  to  Greppo,  who  was  brutally  treated 
and  thrown  down  by  Gronfier,  assisted  by  six  men  carry- 
a  dark  lantern  and  a  pole-axe ;  to  Cavaignac,  who  was 
secured  by  Colin,  a  smooth-tongued  villain,  who  affected 
to  be  shocked  on  hearing  him  curse  and  swear ;  to  M. 
Thiers,  who  was  arrested  by  Hubaut  (the  elder),  who  pro- 
fessed that  he  had  seen  him  "  tremble  and  weep,"  thus 
adding  falsehood  to  crime;  to  Valentin,  who  was  assailed 
in  his  bed  by  Dourlens,  taken  by  the  feet  and  shoulders, 
and  thrust  into  a  padlocked  police  van;  to  Miot,  destined 
to  the  tortures  of  African  casemates  ;  to  Roger  (du  Xord), 
who  with  courageous  and  witty  irony  offered  sherry  to  the 
bandits.     Charms  and  Changarniei'  were  taken  unawares. 


32  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

They  lived  in  the  Rue  St.  Honore,  nearly  opposite  to  each 
other,  Changarnier  at  No.  3,  Charras  at  No.  14.  Ever 
since  the  9th  of  September  Changarnier  had  dismissed 
the  fifteen  men  armed  to  the  teeth  by  whom  he  had 
hitherto  been  guarded  during  the  night,  and  on  the  1st  De- 
cember, as  we  have  said,  Charras  had  unloaded  his  pistols. 
These  empty  pistols  were  lying  on  the  table  when  they 
came  to  arrest  him.  The  Commissary  of  Police  threw  him- 
self upon  them.  "Idiot,"  said  Charras  to  him,  "  if  they 
had  been  loaded,  you  would  have  been  a  dead  man." 
These  pistols,  we  may  note,  had  been  given  to  Charras 
upon  the  taking  of  Mascara  by  General  Renaud,  who  at 
the  moment  of  Charras'  arrest  was  on  horseback  in  the 
street  helping  to  carry  out  the  coup  d'etat.  If  these 
pistols  had  remained  loaded,  and  if  General  Renaud  had 
had  the  task  of  arrresting  Charras,  it  would  have  been 
curious  if  Renaud's  pistols  had  killed  Renaud.  Charras 
assuredly  would  not  have  hesitated.  We  have  already 
mentioned  the  names  of  these  police  rascals.  It  is  useless 
to  repeat  them.  It  was  Courtille  who  arrested  Charras, 
Lerat  who  arrested  Changarnier,  Desgranges  who  arrested 
Nadaud.  The  men  thus  seized  in  their  own  houses  were 
Representatives  of  the  people ;  they  were  inviolable,  so 
that  to  the  crime  of  the  violation  of  their  persons  was 
added  this  high  treason,  the  violation  of  the  Constitution. 

There  was  no  lack  of  impudence  in  the  perpetration  of 
these  outrages.  The  police  agents  made  merry.  Some  of 
these  droll  fellows  jested.  At  Mazas  the  under-jailors 
jeered  at  Thiers,  Nadaud  reprimanded  them  severely. 
The  Sieur  Hubaut  (the  younger)  awoke  General  Bedeau. 
"General,  you  are  a  prisoner." — "My  person  is  invio- 
lable."— "Unless  you  are  caught  red-handed,  in  the  very 
act." — "  Well,"  said  Bedeau,  "  I  am  caught  in  the  act, 
the  heinous  act  of  being  asleep."  They  took  him  by  the 
collar  and  dragged  him  to  a  fiacre. 

On  meeting  together  at  Mazas,  Nadaud  grasped  the 
hand  of  Greppo,  and  Lagrange  grasped  the  hand  of 
Lamorieiere.  This  made  the  police  gentry  laugh.  A 
colonel,  named  Thirion,  wearing  a  commander's  cross 
round  his  neck,  helped  to  put  the  Generals  and  the  Rep- 
resentatives into  jail.  "  Look  me  in  the  face,"  said 
Charras  to  him.     Thirion  moved  away. 

Thus,  without  counting  other  arrests  which  took  place 


THE  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  33 

later  on,  there  were  imprisoned  during  the  night  of  the 
2d  of  December,  sixteen  Representatives  and  seventy- 
eight  citizens.  The  two  agents  of  the  crime  furnished  a 
report  of  it  to  Louis  Bonaparte.  Morny  wrote  "  Boxed 
up ;"  Maupas  wrote  "  Quadded."  The  one  in  drawing- 
room  slang,  the  other  in  the  slang  of  the  galleys.  Subtle 
gradations  of  language. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   DARKNESS   OP   THE   CRIME. 

Versigny  had  just  left  me. 

While  I  dressed  hastily  there  came  in  a  man  in  whom  I 
had  every  confidence.  He  was  a  poor  cabinet-maker  out 
of  work,  named  Girard,  to  whom  I  had  given  shelter  in  a 
room  of  my  house,  a  carver  of  wood,  and  not  illiterate. 
lie  came  in  from  the  street;  he  was  trembling. 

"Well,"  I  asked,  "what  do  the  people  say?" 

Girard  answered  me, — ■ 

"  People  are  dazed.  The  blow  has  been  struck  in  such 
a  manner  that  it  is  not  realized.  Workmen  read  the 
placards,  say  nothing,  and  go  to  their  work.  Only  one 
in  a  hundred  speaks.  It  is  to  say,  'Good!'  This  is 
how  it  appears  to  them.  The  law  of  the  81st  May  is 
abrogated — '  Well  done  ! '  Universal  suffrage  is  re-estab- 
lished— ■'  Also  well  done  ! '  The  reactionary  majority 
has  been  driven  away — '  Admirable  ! '  Thiers  is  arrested 
— '  Capital ! '  Changarnier  is  seized — '  Bravo  ! '  Round 
each  placard  there  are  claqueurs.  Ratapoil  explains  his 
coup  (Vet<(t  to  Jacques  Bonhomme,  Jacques  Bonhomme 
takes  it  all  in.  Briefly,  it  is  my  impression  that  the 
people  give  their  consent." 

"  Let  it  be  so,"  said  I. 

"But,"  asked  Girard  of  me,  "what  will  you  do,  Mon- 
sieur Victor  Hugo?" 

I  took  my  scarf  of  office  from  a  cupboard,  and  showed 
it  to  him. 

lie  understood. 

We  shook  hands. 

As  he  went  out,  Carini  entered. 
3 


34  THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Colonel  Carini  is  an  intrepid  man.  He  had  commanded 
the  cavalry  under  Mieroslawsky  in  the  Sicilian  insurrec- 
tion. He  has,  in  a  few  moving  and  enthusiastic  pages, 
told  the  story  of  that  nohle  revolt.  Carini  is  one  of  those 
Italians  who  love  France  as  we  Frenchmen  love  Italy. 
Every  warm-hearted  man  in  this  century  has  two  father- 
lands— the  Home  of  yesterday  and  the  Paris  of  to-day. 

"  Thank  God,"  said  Carini  to  me,  "  you  are  still  free," 
and  he  added,  "  The  blow  has  been  struck  in  a  formid- 
able manner.  The  Assembly  is  invested.  I  have  come 
from  thence.  The  Place  de  la  Involution,  the  Quays,  the 
Tuileries,  the  boulevards,  are  crowded  with  troops.  The 
soldiers  have  their  knapsacks.  The  batteries  are  har- 
nessed.    If  fighting  takes  place  it  will  be  desperate  work." 

I  answered  him,  "  There  will  be  fighting." 

And  I  added,  laughing,  "You  have  proved  that  the 
colonels  write  like  poets ;  now  it  is  the  turn  of  the  poets 
to  fight  like  colonels." 

I  entered  my  wife's  room ;  she  knew  nothing,  and  was 
quietly  reading  her  paper  in  bed. 

I  had  taken  about  me  five  hundred  francs  in  gold.  I 
put  on  my  wife's  bed  a  box  containing  nine  hundred  francs, 
all  the  money  which  remained  to  me,  and  I  told  her  what 
had  happened. 

She  turned  pale,  and  said  to  me,  "  What  are  you  going 
to  do?" 

"My  duty." 

She  embraced  me,  and  only  said  two  words : — 

"Doit." 

My  breakfast  was  ready.  I  ate  a  cutlet  in  two  month- 
fuls.  As  I  finished,  my  daughter  came  in.  She  was 
startled  by  the  manner  in  which  I  kissed  her,  and  asked 
me,  "What  is  the  matter?" 

"  Your  mother  will  explain  to  you." 

And  I  left  them. 

The  Rue  de  la  Tour  d'Auvergne  was  as  quiet  and  de- 
serted as  usual.  Four  workmen  were,  however,  chatting 
near  my  door  ;  they  wished  me  "  Good  morning." 

I  cried  out  to  them,  "  You  know  what  is  going  on?" 

"  Yes,"  said  they. 

"  Well.  It  is  treason !  Louis  Bonaparte  is  strangling 
the  Pepublic.  The  people  are  attacked.  The  people 
must  defend  themselves." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  85 

"They  will  defend  themselves." 

"  You  promise  me  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  they  answered. 

One  of  them  added,  "  We  swear  it." 

They  kept  their  word.  Barricades  were  constructed  in 
my  street  (Rue  de  la  Tour  d'Auvergne),  in  the  Rue  des 
Martyrs,  in  the  Cite  Rodier,  in  the  Rue  Coquenard,  and 
at  Notre-Dame  de  Lorette. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  PLACARDS." 

Ox  leaving  these  brave  men  I  could  read  at  the  corner 
of  the  Rue  de  la  Tour  d'Auvergne  and  the  Rue  des 
Martyrs,  the  three  infamous  placards  which  had  been 
posted  on  the  walls  of  Paris  during  the  night. 

Here  they  are. 

"  PROCLAMATION 

"  of  the  President  of  the  Republic. 
"  Appeal  to  the  People. 

"  Frenchmen-  !  The  present  situation  can  last  no  longer. 
Every  day  which  passes  enhances  the  dangers  of  the 
country.  The  Assembly,  which  ought  to  be  the  firmest 
support  of  order,  has  become  a  focus  of  conspiracies.  The 
patriotism  of  three  hundred  of  its  members  has  been 
unable  to  check  its  fatal  tendencies.  Instead  of  making 
laws  in  the  public  interest  it  forges  arms  for  civil  war ; 
it  attacks  the  power  which  I  hold  directly  from  the  People, 
it  encourages  all  bad  passions,  it  compromises  the  tran- 
quillity of  France;  I  have  dissolved  it,  and  I  constitute 
the  whole  People  a  judge  between  it  and  me. 

"  The  Constitution,  as  you  know,  was  constructed  with 
the  object  of  weakening  beforehand  the  power  which  you 
were  about  to  confide  to  me.  Six  millions  of  votes  formed 
an  emphatic  protest  against  it,  and  yet  I  have  faithfully 
respected  it.  Provocations,  calumnies,  outrages,  have 
found  me  unmoved.  Now,  however,  that  the  fundamental 
compact  is  no  longer  respected  by  those  very  men  who 


36  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

incessantly  invoke  it,  and  that  the  men  who  have  ruined 
two  monarchies  wish  to  tie  my  hands  in  order  to  over- 
throw the  Republic,  my  duty  is  to  frustrate  their  treach- 
erous schemes,  to  maintain  the  Republic,  and  to  save  the 
Country  by  appealing  to  the  solemn  judgment  of  the  only 
Sovereign  whom  I  recognize  in  France — the  People. 

"  I  therefore  make  a  loyal  appeal  to  the  whole  nation, 
and  I  say  to  you  :  If  you  wish  to  continue  this  condition 
of  uneasiness  which  degrades  us  and  compromises  our 
future,  choose  another  in  my  place,  for  I  will  no  longer 
retain  a  power  which  is  impotent  to  do  good,  which  ren- 
ders me  responsible  for  actions  which  I  cannot  prevent, 
and  which  binds  me  to  the  helm  when  I  see  the  vessel 
driving  towards  the  abyss. 

"  If  on  the  other  hand  you  still  place  confidence  in  me, 
give  me  the  means  of  accomplishing  the  great  mission 
which  I  hold  from  you. 

"This  mission  consists  in  closing  the  era  of  revolutions, 
by  satisfying  the  legitimate  needs  of  the  People,  and  by 
protecting  them  from  subversive  passions.  It  consists, 
above  all,  in  creating  institutions  which  survive  men,  and 
which  shall  in  fact  form  the  foundations  on  which  some- 
thing durable  may  be  established. 

"  Persuaded  that  the  instability  of  power,  that  the  pre- 
ponderance of  a  single  Assembly,  are  the  permanent 
causes  of  trouble  and  discord,  I  submit  to  your  suffrage 
the  following  fundamental  bases  of  a  Constitution  which 
will  be  developed  by  the  Assemblies  later  on : — 

"  1.  A  responsible  Chief  appointed  for  ten  years. 
"2.  Ministers  dependent  upon  the  Executive  Power 

alone. 
"  3.  A  Council  of  State  composed  of  the  most  distin- 
guished men,  who  shall  prepare  laws  and  shall 
support  them  in  debate  before  the  Legislative 
Body. 
"  4.  A  Legislative  Body  which  shall  discuss  and  vote 
the  laws,  and  which  shall  be  elected  by  univer- 
sal  suffrage,    without   scrutin   de  liste,  which 
falsities  the  elections. 
"  5.  A  Second  Assembly  composed  of  the  most  illus- 
trious men  of  the  country,  a  power  of  equipoise, 
the  guardian  of  the  fundamental  compact,  and 
of  the  public  liberties. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  37 

"  This  system,  created  by  the  first  Consul  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  century,  has  already  given  repose  and  pros- 
perity to  France  ;  it  would  still  insure  them  to  her. 

"  Such  is  my  firm  conviction.  If  you  share  it,  declare 
it  by  your  votes.  If,  on  the  contrary,  you  prefer  a  gov- 
ernment without  strength,  Monarchical  or  Republican, 
borrowed  I  know  not  from  what  past,  or  from  what  chi- 
merical future,  answer  in  the  negative. 

"  Thus  for  the  first  time  since  1804,  you  will  vote  with 
a  full  knowledge  of  the  circumstances,  knowing  exactly 
for  whom  and  for  what. 

"  If  I  do  not  obtain  the  majority  of  your  suffrages  I 
shall  call  together  a  New  Assembly  and  shall  place  in  its 
hands  the  commission  which  I  have  received  from  you. 

"  But  if  you  believe  that  the  cause  of  which  my  name 
is  the  symbol, — that  is  to  say,  France  regenerated  by  the 
Revolution  of  '89,  and  organized  by  the  Emperor,  is  to  be 
still  your  own,  proclaim  it  by  sanctioning  the  powers 
which  I  ask  from  you. 

"Then  France  and  Europe  will  be  preserved  from  an- 
archy, obstacles  will  be  removed,  rivalries  will  have  dis- 
appeared, for  all  will  respect,  in  the  decision  of  the  People, 
the  decree  of  Providence. 

"  Given  at  the  Palace  of  the  Elysee,  2d  December,  1851. 
"  Louis  Napoleox  Bonaparte." 


«  PROCLAMATION  OF  THE  PRESIDENT  OF  THE 
REPUBLIC  TO  THE  ARMY. 

"  Soldiers  !  Be  proud  of  your  mission,  you  will  save 
the  country,  for  I  count  upon  you  not  to  violate  the  laws, 
but  to  enforce  respect  for  the  first  law  of  the  country, 
the  national  Sovereignty,  of  which  I  am  the  Legitimate 
Representative. 

"  For  a  long  time  past,  like  myself,  you  have  suffered 
from  obstacles  which  have  opposed  themselves  both  to  the 
good  that  I  wished  to  do  and  to  the  demonstrations  of 
your  sympathies  in  my  favor.  These  obstacles  have  been 
broken  down. 

"The  Assembly  has  tried  to  attack  the  authority  which 
I  hold  from  the  whole  Nation.     It  has  ceased  to  exist. 


38  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  I  make  a  loyal  appeal  to  the  People  and  to  the  Army, 
and  I  say  to  them,  Either  give  me  the  means  of  insuring 
your  prosperity,  or  choose  another  in  my  place. 

"In  1830,  as  in  1848,  you  were  treated  as  vanquished 
men.  After  having  branded  your  heroic  disinterestedness, 
they  disdained  to  consult  your  sympathies  and  your 
wishes,  and  yet  you  are  the  flower  of  the  Nation.  To-day, 
at  this  solemn  moment,  I  am  resolved  that  the  voice  of 
the  Army  shall  be  heard. 

"  Vote,  therefore,  freely  as  citizens  ;  but,  as  soldiers  do 
not  forget  that  passive  obedience  to  the  orders  of  the 
Chief  of  the  State  is  the  rigorous  duty  of  the  Army,  from 
the  general  to  the  private  soldier. 

u  It  is  for  me,  responsible  for  my  actions  both  to  the 
People  and  to  posterity,  to  take  those  measures  which 
may  seem  to  me  indispensable  for  the  public  welfare. 

"As  for  you,  remain  immovable  within  the  rules  of 
discipline  and  of  honor.  By  your  imposing  attitude  help 
the  country  to  manifest  its  will  with  calmness  and  reflec- 
tion. 

"  Be  ready  to  repress  every  attack  upon  the  free  exer- 
cise of  the  sovereignty  of  the  People. 

"  Soldiers,  I  do  not  speak  to  you  of  the  memories  which 
my  name  recalls.  They  are  engraven  in  your  hearts. 
We  are  united  by  indissoluble  ties.  Your  history  is  mine. 
There  is  between  us,  in  the  past,  a  community  of  glory 
and  of  misfortune. 

"  There  will  be  in  the  future  community  of  sentiment 
and  of  resolutions  for  the  repose  and  the  greatness  of 
France. 

"Given  at  the  Palace  of  the  Elysee,  December  2d,  1851. 
"  (Signed)  L.  N.  Bonaparte." 


"IN  THE  NAME  OF  THE  FRENCH  PEOPLE. 

"  The  President  of  the  Republic  decrees : — 

"Article  I. 
"  The  National  Assembly  is  dissolved. 

"  Article  II. 
"  Universal  suffrage  is  re-established.    The  law  of  May 
31  is  abrogated. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  39 

"Article  III. 
"  The  French  People  are  convoked  in  their  electoral 
districts  from  the   14th  December  to  the  21st  December 
following. 

"Article  IV. 
"  The  State  of  Siege  is  decreed  in  the  district  of  the 
first  Military  Division. 

"  Article  V. 
"  The  Council  of  State  is  dissolved. 

"  Article  VI. 
"  The  Minister  of  the  Interior  is  charged  with  the  ex- 
ecution of  this  decree. 

"  Given  at  the  Palace  of  the  Elysee,  2d  December,  1851. 
"Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 
"De  Morny,  Minister  of  the  Interior." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

NO.    70,  RUE    BLANCHE. 

The  Cite  Gaillard  is  somewhat  difficult  to  find.  It  is  a 
deserted  alley  in  that  new  quarter  which  separates  the 
Rue  des  Martyrs  from  the  Rue  Blanche.  I  found  it,  how- 
ever. As  I  reached  Xo.  4,  Yvan  came  out  of  the  gateway 
and  said,  "I  am  here  to  warn  you.  The  police  have  an 
eye  upon  this  house,  Michel  is  waiting  for  you  at  Xo.  70, 
Rue  Blanche,  a  few  steps  from  here." 

I  knew  Xo.  70,  Rue  Blanche.  Manin,  the  celebrated 
President  of  the  Venetian  Republic,  lived  there.  It  was 
not  in  his  rooms,  however,  that  the  meeting  was  to  take 
place. 

The  porter  of  Xo.  70  told  me  to  go  up  to  the  first  floor. 
The  door  was  opened,  and  a  handsome,  gray-haired  woman 
of  some  forty  summers,  the  Baroness  Coppens,  whom  I 
recognized  as  having  seen  in  society  and  at  my  own  house, 
ushered  me  into  a  drawing-room. 

Michel  de  Bourges  and  Alexander  Rey  were  there,  the 
latter  an  ex-Constituent,  an  eloquent  writer,  a  brave  man. 
At  that  time  Alexander  Rey  edited  the  National. 

We  shook  hands. 

Michel  said  to  me, — 


40  THE  ni STORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  Hugo,  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

I  answered  him, — 

"  Everything." 

"  That  also  is  my  opinion,"  said  he. 

Numerous  representatives  arrived,  and  amongst  others 
Pierre  Lefranc,  Lahrousse,  Theodore  Bac,  Noel  Parfait, 
Arnauld  (de  l'Ariege),  Demosthenes  Ollivier,  an  ex-Con- 
stituent, and  Charamaule.  There  was  deep  and  unutter- 
able indignation,  but  no  useless  words  were  spoken. 

All  were  imbued  with  that  manly  anger  whence  issue 
great  resolutions. 

They  talked.  They  set  forth  the  situation.  Each 
brought  forward  the  news  which  he  had  learnt. 

Theodore  Bac  came  from  Leon  Faucher,  who  lived  in 
the  Rue  Blanche.  It  was  he  who  had  awakened  Leon 
Faucher,  and  had  announced  the  news  to  him.  The  first 
words  of  Leon  Faucher  were,  "It  is  an  infamous  deed." 

From  the  first  moment  Charamaule  displayed  a  courage 
which,  during  the  four  days  of  the  struggle,  never  flagged 
for  a  single  instant.  Charamaule  is  a  very  tall  man, 
possessed  of  vigorous  features  and  convincing  eloquence ; 
he  voted  with  the  Left,  but  sat  with  the  Bight.  In  the 
Assembly  he  was  the  neighbor  of  Montalembert  and  of 
Biancey.  He  sometimes  had  warm  disputes  with  them, 
which  we  watched  from  afar  off,  and  which  amused  us. 

Charamaule  had  come  to  the  meeting  at  Xo.  70  dressed 
in  a  sort  of  blue  cloth  military  cloak,  and  armed,  as  we 
found  out  later  on. 

The  situation  was  grave ;  sixteen  Representatives  ar- 
rested, all  the  generals  of  the  Assembly,  and  he  who  was 
more  than  a  general,  Charras.  All  the  journals  suppressed, 
all  the  printing  offices  occupied  by  soldiers.  On  the  side 
of  Bonaparte  an  army  of  80,000  men  which  could  be 
doubled  in  a  few  hours;  on  our  side  nothing.  The  people 
deceived,  and  moreover  disarmed.  The  telegraph  at  their 
command.  All  the  walls  covered  with  their  placards,  and 
at  our  disposal  not  a  single  printing  case,  not  one  sheet 
of  paper.  Xo  means  of  raising  the  protest,  no  means  of 
beginning  the  combat.  The  coup  cVctat  was  clad  with 
mail,  the  Republic  was  naked ;  the  coup  cVetat  had  a 
speaking  trumpet,  the  Republic  wore  a  gag. 

What  was  to  be  done  ? 

The  raid  against  the  Republic,  against  the  Assembly, 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  41 

against  Right,  against  Law,  against  Progress,  against 
Civilization,  was  commanded  by  African  generals.  These 
heroes  had  just  proved  that  they  were  cowards.  They 
had  taken  their  precautions  well.  Fear  alone  can  en- 
gender so  much  skill.  They  had  arrested  all  the  men  of 
war  of  the  Assembly,  and  all  the  men  of  action  of  the 
Left,  Baune,  Charles  Lagrange,  Miot,  Valentin,  Nadaud, 
Cholat.  Add  to  this  that  all  the  possible  chiefs  of  the 
barricades  were  in  prison.  The  organizers  of  the  ambus- 
cade had  carefully  left  at  liberty  Jules  Favre,  Michel  de 
Bourges,  and  myself,  judging  us  to  be  less  men  of  action 
than  of  the  Tribune ;  wishing  to  leave  the  Left  men  ca- 
pable of  resistance,  but  incapable  of  victory,  hoping  to 
dishonor  us  if  we  did  not  fight,  and  to  shoot  us  if  we  did 
fight. 

Nevertheless,  no  one  hesitated.  The  deliberation  began. 
Other  representatives  arrived  every  minute,  Edgar 
Quinet,  l)outre,  Pelletier,  Cassal,  Bruckner,  Baudin, 
Chauffour.  The  room  was  full,  some  were  seated,  most 
were  standing,  in  confusion,  but  without  tumult. 

I  was  the  first  to  speak. 

I  said  that  the  struggle  ought  to  be  begun  at  once. 
Blow  for  blow. 

That  it  was  my  opinion  that  the  hundred  and  fifty 
Representatives  of  the  Left  should  put  on  their  scarves 
of  office,  should  march  in  procession  through  the  streets 
and  the  boulevards  as  far  as  the  Madeleine,  and  crying 
"  Vive  la  Republique !  Vive  la  Constitution  !  "  should 
appear  before  the  troops,  and  alone,  calm  and  unarmed, 
should  summon  Might  to  obey  Right.  If  the  soldiers 
yielded,  they  should  go  to  the  Assembly  and  make  an 
end  of  Louis  Bonaparte.  If  the  soldiers  fired  upon  their 
legislators,  they  should  disperse  throughout  Paris,  cry 
"To  Arms,"  and  resort  to  barricades.  Resistance  should 
be  begun  constitutionally,  and  if  that  failed,  should  be 
continued  revolutionarily.     There  was  no  time  to  be  lost. 

"  High  treason,"  said  I,  "  should  be  seized  red-handed, 
it  is  a  great  mistake  to  suffer  such  an  outrage  to  be 
accepted  by  the  hours  as  they  elapse.  Each  minute  which 
passes  is  an  accomplice,  and  endorses  the  crime.  Beware 
of  that  calamity  called  an '  Accomplished  fact.'   To  arms  !  " 

Many  warmly  supported  this  advice,  among  others 
Edgar  Quinet,  Pelletier,  and  Doutre. 


42  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Michel  de  Bourges  seriously  objected.  My  instinct 
whs  to  begin  at  once,  his  advice  was  to  wait  and  see. 
According  to  him  there  was  danger  in  hastening  the 
catastrophe.  The  coup  cVetat  was  organized,  and  the 
People  were  not.  They  had  been  taken  unawares.  We 
must  not  indulge  in  illusion.  The  masses  could  not  stir 
yet.  Perfect  calm  reigned  in  the  faubourgs ;  Surprise 
existed,  yes ;  Anger,  no.  The  people  of  Paris,  although 
so  intelligent,  did  not  understand. 

Michel  added,  "  We  are  not  in  1830.  Charles  X.,  in 
turning  out  the  221,  exposed  himself  to  this  blow,  the  re- 
election of  the  221.  AVe  are  not  in  the  same  situation. 
The  221  were  popular.  The  present  Assembly  is  not :  a 
Chamber  which  has  been  insultingly  dissolved  is  always 
sure  to  conquer,  if  the  People  support  it.  Thus  the  Peo- 
ple rose  in  1830.  To-day  they  wait.  They  are  dupes 
until  they  shall  be  victims."  Michel  de  Bourges  con- 
cluded, "  The  People  must  be  given  time  to  understand, 
to  grow  angry,  to  rise.  As  for  us,  Representatives,  we 
should  be  rash  to  precipitate  the  situation.  If  we  were  to 
march  immediately  straight  upon  the  troops,  we  should 
only  be  shot  to  no  purpose,  and  the  glorious  insurrection 
for  Right  would  thus  be  beforehand  deprived  of  its  nat- 
ural leaders — the  Kepresentatives  of  the  People.  We 
should  decapitate  the  popular  army.  Temporary  delay, 
on  the  contrary,  would  be  beneficial.  Too  much  zeal  must 
be  guarded  against,  self-restraint  is  necessary,  to  give 
way  would  be  to  lose  the  battle  before  having  begun  it. 
Thus,  for  example,  we  must  not  attend  the  meeting  an- 
nounced by  the  Right  for  noon,  all  those  who  went  there 
would  be  arrested.  We  must  remain  free,  we  must  re- 
main in  readiness,  we  must  remain  calm,  and  must  act 
waiting  the  advent  of  the  People.  Four  days  of  this  agi- 
tation without  fighting  would  weary  the  army."  Michel, 
however,  advised  a  beginning,  but  simply  by  placarding 
Article  08  of  the  Constitution.  But  where  should  a 
printer  be  found  ? 

Michel  de  Bourges  spoke  with  an  experience  of  revolu- 
tionary procedure  which  was  wanting  in  me.  For  many 
years  past  he  had  acquired  a  certain  practical  knowledge 
of  the  masses.  His  council  was  wise.  It  must  be  added 
that  all  the  information  which  came  to  us  seconded  him, 
and  appeared  conclusive  against  me.     Paris  was  dejected. 


THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME.  43 

The  army  of  the  coup  d'etat  invaded  her  peaceably.  Even 
the  placards  were  not  torn  down.  Nearly  all  the  Repre- 
sentatives present,  even  the  most  daring,  agreed  with 
Michel's  counsel,  to  wait  and  see  what  would  happen. 
"  At  night,"  said  they,  "  the  agitation  will  begin,"  and 
they  concluded,  like  Michel  de  Bourges,  that  the  people 
must  be  given  time  to  understand.  There  would  be  a 
risk  of  being  alone  in  too  hasty  a  beginning.  We  should 
not  carry  the  people  with  us  in  the  first  moment.  Let  us 
leave  the  indignation  to  increase  little  by  little  in  their 
hearts.  If  it  were  begun  prematurely  our  manifestation 
would  miscarry.  These  were  the  sentiments  of  all.  For 
myself,  while  listening  to  them,  I  felt  shaken.  Perhaps 
they  were  right.  It  would  be  a  mistake  to  give  the 
signal  for  the  combat  in  vain.  What  good  is  the  light- 
ning which  is  not  followed  by  the  thunderbolt? 

To  raise  a  voice,  to  give  vent  to  a  cry,  to  find  a  printer, 
there  was  the  first  question.  But  was  there  still  a  free 
Press  ? 

The  brave  old  ex-chief  of  the  6th  Legion,  Colonel 
Forestier,  came  in.  He  took  Michel  de  Bourges  and 
myself  aside. 

"  Listen,"  said  he  to  us.  "I  come  to  you.  I  have  been 
dismissed.  I  no  longer  command  my  legion,  but  appoint 
me  in  the  name  of  the  Left,  Colonel  of  the  Gth.  Sign  me 
an  order  and  I  will  go  at  once  and  call  them  to  arms.  In 
an  hour  the  regiment  will  be  on  foot." 

"  Colonel,"  answered  I,  "  I  will  do  more  than  sign  an 
order,  I  will  accompany  you." 

And  I  turned  towards  Charamaule,  who  had  a  carriage 
in  waiting. 

"  Come  with  us,"  said  I. 

Forestier  was  sure  of  two  majors  of  the  Gth.  We 
decided  to  drive  to  them  at  once,  while  Michel  and  the 
oilier  Representatives  should  await  us  at  Bon  valet's,  in 
the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  near  the  Cafe  Turc.  There 
they  could  consult  together. 

We  started. 

We  traversed  Paris,  where  people  were  already  begin- 
ning to  swarm  in  a  threatening  manner.  The  boulevards 
were  thronged  with  an  uneasy  crowd.  People  walked  to  and 
fro,  passers-by  accosted  each  other  without  any  previous 
acquaintance,  a  noteworthy  sign  of  public  anxiety ;  and 


44  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

groups  talked  in  loud  voices  at  the  corners  of  the  streets. 
The  shops  were  being  shut. 

"  Come,  this  looks  better,"  cried  Charamaule. 

He  had  been  wandering  about  the  town  since  the  morn- 
ing, and  he  had  noticed  with  sadness  the  apathy  of  the 
masses. 

We  found  the  two  majors  at  home  upon  whom  Colonel 
Forestier  counted.  They  were  two  rich  linendrapers,  who 
received  us  with  some  embarrassment.  The  shopmen 
had  gathered  together  at  the  windows,  and  watched  us 
pass  by.     It  was  mere  curiosity. 

In  the  meanwhile  one  of  the  two  majors  countermanded 
a  journey  which  he  was  going  to  undertake  on  that  day, 
and  promised  us  his  co-operation. 

"  But,"  added  he,  "  do  not  deceive  yourselves,  one  can 
foresee  that  we  shall  be  cut  to  pieces.  Few  men  will 
march  out." 

Colonel  Forestier  said  to  us,  "  Watrin,  the  present 
colonel  of  the  6th,  does  not  care  for  righting ;  perhaps 
he  will  resign  me  the  command  amicably.  I  will  go  and 
find  him  alone,  so  as  to  startle  him  the  less,  and  will  join 
you  at  Bonvalet's." 

Near  the  Porte  St.  Martin  we  left  our  carriage,  and 
Charamaule  and  myself  proceeded  along  the  boulevard  on 
foot,  in  order  to  observe  the  groups  more  closely,  and 
more  easily  to  judge  the  aspect  of  the  crowd. 

The  recent  levelling  of  the  road  had  converted  the 
boulevard  of  the  Forte  St.  Martin  into  a  deep  cutting, 
commanded  by  two  embankments.  On  the  summits  of 
these  embankments  were  the  footways,  furnished  with 
railings.  The  carriages  drove  along  the  cutting,  the  foot 
passengers  walked  along  the  footways. 

Just  as  we  reached  the  boulevard,  a  long  column  of 
infantry  filed  into  this  ravine  with  drummers  at  their 
head.  The  thick  waves  of  bayonets  filled  the  square  of 
St.  Martin,  and  lost  themselves  in  the  depths  of  the 
Boulevard  Bonne  Nouvelle. 

An  enormous  and  compact  crowd  covered  the  two 
pavements  of  the  Boulevard  St.  Martin.  Large  numbers 
of  workmen,  in  their  blouses,  were  there,  leaning  upon  the 
railings. 

At  the  moment  when  the  head  of  the  column  entered 
the  defile  before  the  Theatre  of  the  Porte  St.  Martin  a 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  45 

tremendous  shout  of  "  Vive  la  Republique  !  "  came  forth 
from  every  mouth  as  though  shouted  by  one  man.  The 
soldiers  continued  to  advance  in  silence,  but  it  might  have 
been  said  that  their  pace  slackened,  and  many  of  them 
regarded  the  crowd  with  an  air  of  indecision.  What  did 
this  cry  of  "  Vive  la  Republique  !  "  mean  ?  Was  it  a  token 
of  applause  ?    Was  it  a  shout  of  defiance  ? 

It  seemed  to  me  at  that  moment  that  the  Republic 
raised  its  brow,  and  that  the  coup  cFetat  hung  its  head. 

Meanwhile  Charamaule  said  to  me,  "You  are  recog- 
nized." 

In  fact,  near  the  Chateau  d'Eau  the  crowd  surrounded 
me.  Some  young  men  cried  out,  "  Vive  Victor  Hugo !  " 
One  of  them  asked  me,  "  Citizen  Victor  Hugo,  what  ought 
we  to  do  ?  " 

I  answered,  "  Tear  down  the  seditious  placards  of  the 
coup  d'etat,  and  cry  "  Vive  la  Constitution  !  " 

"  And  suppose  they  fire  on  us  ?  "  said  a  young  workman. 

"  You  will  hasten  to  arms. " 

"  Bravo !  "  shouted  the  crowd. 

I  added,  "Louis  Bonaparte  is  a  rebel,  he  has  steeped 
himself  to-day  in  every  crime.  We,  Representatives  of  the 
People,  declare  him  an  outlaw,  but  there  is  no  need  for  our 
declaration,  since  he  is  an  outlaw  by  the  mere  fact  of  his 
treason.  Citizens,  you  have  two  hands ;  take  in  one  your 
Right,  and  in  the  other  your  gun  and  fall  upon  Bonaparte." 

"  Bravo  !  Bravo  !  "  again  shouted  the  people. 

A  tradesman  who  was  shutting  up  his  shop  said  to  me, 
"Don't  speak  so  loud,  if  they  heard  you  talking  like  that, 
they  would  shoot  you." 

"  Well,  then,"  I  replied,  "  you  would  parade  my  body, 
and  my  death  would  be  a  boon  if  the  justice  of  God  could 
result  from  it." 

All  shouted  "  Long  live  Victor  Hugo ! " 

"Shout  '  Long  live  the  Constitution,'  "  said  I. 

A  great  cry  of  "  Vive  la  Constitution  !  Vive  la  Repub- 
lique ;  "  came  forth  from  every  breast. 

Enthusiasm,  indignation,  anger  flashed  in  the  faces  of 
all.  I  thought  then,  and  I  still  think,  that  this,  perhaps, 
was  the  supreme  moment.  I  was  tempted  to  carry  off 
all  that  crowd,  and  to  begin  the  battle. 

Charamaule  restrained  me.     He  whispered  to  me, — 

"  You  will  bring  about  a  useless  fusillade.     Every  one 


46  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

is  unarmed.  The  infantry  is  only  two  paces  from  us,  and 
see,  here  comes  the  artillery." 

I  looked  round ;  in  truth  several  pieces  of  cannon 
emerged  at  a  quick  trot  from  the  Hue  de  Bondy,  behind 
the  Chateau  d'Eau. 

The  advice  to  abstain,  given  by  Charamaule,  made  a 
deep  impression  on  me.  Coming  from  such  a  man,  and 
one  so  dauntless,  it  was  certainly  not  to  be  distrusted. 
Besides,  I  felt  myself  bound  by  the  deliberation  which  had 
just  taken  place  at  the  meeting  in  the  Rue  Blanche. 

I  shrank  before  the  responsibility  which  I  should  have 
incurred.  To  have  taken  advantage  of  such  a  moment 
might  have  been  victory,  it  might  also  have  been  a  mas- 
sacre.    Was  I  right  ?    Was  I  wrong  ? 

The  crowd  thickened  around  us,  and  it  became  difficult 
to  go  forward.  We  were  anxious,  however,  to  reach  the 
rendezvous  at  Bonvalet's. 

Suddenly  some  one  touched  me  on  the  arm.  It  was 
Leopold  Duras,  of  the  National. 

"  Go  no  further,"  he  whispered,  "  the  Restaurant  Bon- 
valet  is  surrounded.  Michel  de  Bourges  has  attempted 
to  harangue  the  People,  but  the  soldiers  came  up.  He 
barely  succeeded  in  making  his  escape.  Numerous  Rep- 
resentatives who  came  to  the  meeting  have  been  arrested. 
Retrace  your  steps.  We  are  returning  to  the  old  rendez- 
vous in  the  Rue  Blanche.  I  have  been  looking  for  you  to 
tell  you  this." 

A  cab  was  passing;  Charamaule  hailed  the  driver. 
We  jumped  in,  followed  by  the  crowd,  shouting,  "  Vive 
la  Rgpublique !     Vive  Victor  Hugo  !  " 

It  appears  that  just  at  that  moment  a  squadron  of 
sergents  de  mile  arrived  on  the  Boulevard  to  arrest  me. 
The  coachman  drove  off  at  full  speed.  A  quarter  of  an 
hour  afterwards  we  reached  the  Rue  Blanche. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"VIOLATION  of  the  chamber." 

At  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  Pont  de  la  Con- 
corde was  still  free.     The  large  grated  gate  of  the  Palace 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  47 

of  the  Assembly  was  closed ;  through  the  bars  might  be 
seen  the  flight  of  steps,  that  flight  of  steps  whence  the 
Republic  had  been  proclaimed  on  the  4th  May,  1848, 
covered  with  soldiers ;  and  their  piled  arms  might  be 
distinguished  upon  the  platform  behind  those  high  col- 
umns, which,  during  the  time  of  the  Constituent  Assem- 
bly, after  the  15th  of  May  and  the  23d  June,  masked 
small  mountain  mortars,  loaded  and  pointed. 

A  porter  with  a  red  collar,  wearing  the  livery  of  the 
Assembly,  stood  by  the  little  door  of  the  grated  gate. 
From  time  to  time  Representatives  arrived.  The  porter 
said,  "  Gentlemen,  are  you  Represen  tati ves  ?  "  and  opened 
the  door.     Sometimes  he  asked  their  names. 

M.  Dupin's  quarters  could  be  entered  without  hindrance. 
In  the  great  gallery,  in  the  dining-room,  in  the  salon  d'hon- 
neur  of  the  Presidency,  liveried  attendants  silently  opened 
the  doors  as  usual. 

Before  daylight,  immediately  after  the  arrest  of  the 
Questors  MM.  Baze  and  Leflo,  M.  de  Panat,  the  only  Ques- 
tor  who  remained  free,  having  been  spared  or  disdained 
as  a  Legitimist,  awoke  M.  Dupin  and  begged  him  to  sum- 
mon immediately  the  Representatives  from  their  own 
homes.  M.  Dupin  returned  this  unprecedented  answer, 
"  I  do  not  see  any  urgency." 

Almost  at  the  same  time  as  M.  Panat,  the  Representa- 
tive Jerome  Bonaparte  had  hastened  thither.  lie  had  sum- 
moned M.  Dupin  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  the  .As- 
sembly. M.  Dupin  had  answered,  "  I  cannot,  I  am 
guarded."  Jerome  Bonaparte  burst  out  laughing.  In 
fact,  no  one  had  deigned  to  place  a  sentinel  atM.  Dupin's 
door  ;  they  knew  that  it  was  guarded  by  his  meanness. 

It  was  only  later  on,  towards  noon,  that  they  took  pity 
on  him.  They  felt  that  the  contempt  was  too  great,  and 
allotted  him  two  sentinels. 

At  half-past  seven,  fifteen  or  twenty  Representatives, 
among  whom  were  MM.  Eugene  Sue,  Joret,  de  Resseguier, 
and  de  Talhouet,  met  together  in  M.  Dupin's  room.  They 
also  had  vainly  argued  with  M.  Dupin.  In  the  recess  of 
a  window  a  clever  member  of  the  Majority,  M.  Desmous- 
seaux  de  Givre,  who  was  a  little  deaf  and  exceedingly  ex- 
asperated, almost  quarrelled  with  a  Representative  of  the 
Right  like  himself  whom  he  wrongly  supposed  to  be  favor- 
able to  the  coup  cVetat. 


48  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

M.  Dupin,  apart  from  the  group  of  Representatives, 
alone  dressed  in  black,  his  hands  behind  his  back,  his 
head  sunk  on  his  breast,  walked  up  and  down  before  the 
fire-place,  where  a  large  fire  was  burning.  In  his  own 
room,  and  in  his  very  presence,  they  were  talking  loudly 
about  himself,  yet  he  seemed  not  to  hear. 

Two  members  of  the  Left  came  in,  Benoit  (du  Rhone), 
and  Crestin.  Crestin  entered  the  room,  went  straight  up 
to  M.  Dupin,  and  said  to  him,  "  President,  you  know 
what  is  going  on  ?  How  is  it  that  the  Assembly  has  not 
yet  been  convened  ?  " 

M.  Dupin  halted,  and  answered,  with  a  shrug  which 
was  habitual  with  him, — 

"  There  is  nothing  to  be  done." 

And  he  resumed  his  walk. 

"  It  is  enough,"  said  M.  de  Resseguier. 

"  It  is  too  much,"  said  Eugene  Sue. 

All  the  Representatives  left  the  room. 

In  the  meantime  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde  became 
covered  with  troops.  Among  them  General  Vast-Vimeux, 
lean,  old,  and  little  ;  his  lank  white  hair  plastered  over 
his  temples,  in  full  uniform,  with  his  laced  hat  on  his 
head.  He  was  laden  with  two  huge  epaulets,  and  dis- 
played his  scarf,  not  that  of  a  Representative,  but  of  a 
general,  which  scarf,  being  too  long,  trailed  on  the  ground. 
He  crossed  the  bridge  on  foot,  shouting  to  the  soldiers 
inarticulate  cries  of  enthusiasm  for  the  Empire  and  the 
coup  cVetat.  Such  figures  as  these  were  seen  in  1814.  Only 
instead  of  wearing  a  large  tri-colored,  cockade,  they  wore 
a  large  white  cockade.  In  the  main  the  same  phenomenon ; 
old  men  crying,  "  Long  live  the  Past  !  "  Almost  at  the 
same  moment  M.  de  Larochejaquelein  crossed  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde,  surrounded  by  a  hundred  men  in  blouses, 
who  followed  him  in  silence,  and  with  an  air  of  curiosity. 
Numerous  regiments  of  cavalry  were  drawn  up  in  the 
grand  avenue  of  the  Champs  Elysees. 

At  eight  o'clock  a  formidable  force  invested  the  Legis- 
lative Palace.  All  the  approaches  were  guarded,  all  the 
doors  were  shut.  Some  Representatives  nevertheless  suc- 
ceeded in  penetrating  into  the  interior  of  the  Palace,  not, 
as  has  been  wrongly  stated,  by  the  passage  of  the  Pres- 
ident's house  on  the  side  of  the  Esplanade  of  the  Invalides, 
but  by  the  little  door  of  the  Rue  de  Bourgogne,  called  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  49 

Black  Door.  This  door,  by  what  omission  or  what  con- 
nivance I  do  not  know,  remained  open  till  noon  on  the  2d 
December.  The  Rue  de  Bourgogne  was  nevertheless  full 
of  troops.  Squads  of  soldiers  scattered  here  and  there  in 
the  Rue  de  l'TJniversite'  allowed  passers-by,  who  were  few 
and  far  between,  to  use  it  as  a  thoroughfare. 

The  Representatives  who  entered  by  the  door  in  Rue  de. 
Bourgogne,  penetrated  as  far  as  the  Salle  des  Conferences, 
where,  they  met  their  colleagues  coming  out  from  M. 
Dupin. 

A  numerous  group  of  men,  representing  every  shade  of 
opinion  in  the  Assembly,  was  speedily  assembled  in  this 
hall,  amongst  whom  were  MM.  Eugene  Sue,  Richardet, 
Fayolle,  Joret,  Marc  Dufraisse,  Benoit  (  du  Rhone),  Canet, 
Gambon,  d  Adelsward,  Crequ,  Repellin,  Teillard-Laterisse, 
Rantion,  General  Leydet,  Paulin  Durrieu,  Chanay,  Brilliez, 
Collas  (de  la  Gironde),  Monet,  Gaston,  Favreau,  and  Albert 
de  Resseguier. 

Each  new-comer  accosted  M.  de  Panat. 

"  Where  are  the  vice-Presidents?  " 

"  In  prison." 

"And  the  two  other  Questors  ?" 

"Also  in  prison.  And  I  beg  you  to  believe,  gentlemen," 
added  M.  de  Panat,  "  that  I  have  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  insult  which  has  been  offered  me,  in  not  arresting 
me." 

Indignation  was  at  its  height ;  every  political  shade  was 
blended  in  the  same  sentiment  of  contempt  and  anger, 
and  M.  de  Resseguier  was  no  less  energetic  than  Eugene 
Sue.  For  the  first  time  the  Assembly  seemed  only  to  have 
one  heart  and  one  voice.  Each  at  length  said  what  he 
thought  of  the  man  of  the  Elysee,  and  it  was  then  seen 
that  for  a  long  time  past  Louis  Bonaparte  had  imper- 
ceptibly created  a  profound  unanimity  in  the  Assembly — 
the  unanimity  of  contempt. 

M.  Collas  (of  the  Gironde)  gesticulated  and  told  his  story. 
Tie  came  from  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior.  He  had  seen 
M.  de  Morny,  he  had  spoken  to  him;  and  he,  M.  Collas, 
was  incensed  beyond  measure  at  M.  Bonaparte's  crime. 
Since  then,  that  Crime  has  made  him  Councillor  of  State. 

M.  de  Panat  went  hither  and  thither  among  the  groups, 
announcing  to  the  Representatives  that  he  had  convened 
the  Assembly  for  one  o'clock.     But  it  was  impossible  to 


50  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

wait  until  that  hour.  Time  pressed.  At  the  Palais  Bour- 
bon, as  in  the  Hue  Blanche,  it  was  the  universal  feeling 
that  each  hour  which  passed  by  helped  to  accomplish  the 
coup  d'etat.  Every  one  felt  as  a  reproach  the  weight 
of  his  silence  or  of  his  inaction  ;  the  circle  of  iron  was 
closing  in,  the  tide  of  soldiers  rose  unceasingly,  and  silently 
invaded  the  Palace;  at  each  instant  a  sentinel  the  more 
was  found  at  a  door,  which  a  moment  before  had  been  free. 
Still,  the  group  of  Representatives  assembled  together 
in  the  Salle  des  Conferences  was  as  yet  respected,  it  was 
necessary  to  act,  to  speak,  to  deliberate,  to  struggle,  and 
not  to  lose  a  minute. 

Gambon  said,  "Let  us  try  Dnpin  once  more;  he  is  our 
official  man,  we  have  need  of  him."  They  went  to  look 
for  him.  They  could  not  find  him.  He  was  no  longer 
there,  he  had  disappeared,  he  was  away,  hidden,  crouch- 
ing, cowering,  concealed,  he  had  vanished,  he  was  buried. 
Where?     No  one  knew.     Cowardice  has  unknown  holes. 

Suddenly  a  man  entered  the  hall.  A  man  who  was  a 
stranger  to  the  Assembly,  in  uniform,  wearing  the  epaulet 
of  a  superior  officer  and  a  sword  by  his  side.  He  was  a 
major  of  the  4'2d,  who  came  to  summon  the  Represent- 
atives to  quit  their  own  House.  All,  Royalists  and  Re- 
publicans alike,  rushed  upon  him.  Such  was  the  expres- 
sion of  an  indignant  eye-witness.  General  Leydet  ad- 
dressed him  in  language  such  as  leaves  an  impression  on 
the  cheek  rather  than  on  the  ear. 

"  I  do  my  duty,  I  fulfil  my  instructions,"  stammered  the 
officer. 

"You  are  an  idiot,  if  you  think  you  are  doing  your 
duty,"  cried  Leydet  to  him,  "and  you  are  a  scoundrel  if 
you  know  that  you  are  committing  a  crime.  Your  name? 
What  do  you  call  yourself?    Give  me  your  name." 

The  officer  refused  to  give  his  name,  and  replied,  "  So, 
gentlemen,  you  will  not  withdraw  ?  " 

"No." 

"  I  shall  go  and  obtain  force." 

"  Do  so."" 

He  left  the  room,  and  in  actual  fact  went  to  obtain  orders 
from  the  Ministry  of  the  Interior. 

The  Representatives  waited  in  that  kind  of  indescrib- 
able agitation  which  might  be  called  the  Strangling  of 
Right  by  Violence. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  51 

In  a  short  time  one  of  them  who  had  gone  out  came 
back  hastily,  and  warned  them  that  two  companies  of  the 
Gendarmerie  Mobile  were  coming  with  their  guns  in  their 
hands. 

Marc  Duf  raisse  cried  out,  "  Let  the  outrage  be  thorough. 
Let  the  coup  cVetat  find  us  on  our  seats.  Let  us  go  to  the 
Salle  des  Seances,"  he  added.  "  Since  things  have  come 
to  such  a  pass,  let  us  afford  the  genuine  and  living  spec- 
tacle of  an  1 8th  Brumaire." 

They  all  repaired  to  the  Hall  of  Assembly.  The  pas- 
sage was  free.  The  Salle  Casimir-Perier  was  not  yet 
occupied  by  the  soldiers. 

They  numbered  about  sixty;  Several  were  girded  with 
their  scarves  of  office.  They  entered  the  Hall  medita- 
tively. 

There,  M.  de  Resseguier,  undoubtedly  with  a  good  pur- 
pose, and  in  order  to  form  a  more  compact  group,  urged 
that  they  should  all  install  themselves  on  the  Right  side._ 

"No,"  said  Marc  Duf  raisse,  "  every  one  to  his  bench."" 
They  scattered  themselves  about  the  Hall,  each  in  his 
usual  place. 

M.  Monet,  who  sat  on  one  of  the  lower  benches  of  the 
Left  Centre,  held  in  his  hand  a  copy  of  the  Constitution. 

Several  minutes  elapsed.  No  one  spoke.  It  was  the 
silence  of  expectation  which  precedes  decisive  deeds  and 
final  crises,  and  during  which  every  one  seems  respectfully 
to  listen  to  the  last  instructions  of  his  conscience. 

Suddenly  the  soldiers  of  the  Gendarmerie  Mobile,  head- 
ed by  a  captain  with  his  sword  drawn,  appeared  on  the 
threshold.  The  Hall  of  Assembly  was  violated.  The 
Representatives  rose  from  their  seats  simultaneously, 
shouting  "  Vive  la  Republique  !  " 

The  Representative  Monet  alone  remained  standing, 
and  in  a  loud  and  indignant  voice,  which  resounded 
through  the  empty  hall  like  a  trumpet,  ordered  the  sol- 
diers to  halt. 

The  soldiers  halted,  looking  at  the  Representatives  with 
a  bewildered  air. 

The  soldiers  as  yet  only  blocked  up  the  lobby  of  the 
Left,  and  had  not  passed  beyond  the  Tribune. 

Then  the  Representative  Monet  read  the  Articles  30,37, 
and  08  of  the  Constitution. 

Articles  3G  and  37  established  the  inviolability  of  the 


52  TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

Representatives.    Article  68  deposed  the  President  in  the 
event  of  treason. 

That  moment  was  a  solemn  one.  The  soldiers  listened 
in  silence. 

The  Articles  having  been  read,  Representative  d'Adel- 
sward,  who  sat  on  the  first  lower  bench  of  the  Left,  and 
who  was  nearest  to  the  soldiers,  turned  towards  them  and 
said, — 

"  Soldiers,  you  see  that  the  President  of  the  Republic 
is  a  traitor,  and  would  make  traitors  of  you.  You  violate 
the  sacred  precinct  of  National  Representation.  In  the 
name  of  the  Constitution,  in  the  name  of  the  Law,  we 
order  you  to  withdraw." 

While  Adelsward  was  speaking,  the  major  commanding 
the  Gendarmerie  Mobile   had  entered. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  I  have  orders  to  request  you  to 
retire,  and,  if  you  do  not  withdraw  of  your  own  accord, 
to  expel  you." 

"  Orders  to  expel  us !  "  exclaimed  Adelsward ;  and  all 
the  Representatives  added,  "  Whose  orders ;  Let  us  see 
the  orders.     Who  signed  the  orders  ?  " 

The  major  drew  forth  a  paper  and  unfolded  it.  Scarce- 
ly had  he  unfolded  it  than  he  attempted  to  replace  it  in 
his  pocket,  but  General  Leydet  threw  himself  upon  him 
and  seized  his  arm.  Several  Representatives  leant  for- 
ward, and  read  the  order  for  the  expulsion  of  the  Assem- 
bly, signed  "  Fortoul,  Minister  of  the  Marine." 

Marc  Dufraisse  turned  towards  the  Gendarmes  Mobiles, 
and  cried  out  to  them, — 

"  Soldiers,  your  very  presence  here  is  an  act  of  treason. 
Leave  the  Hall !  "     . 

The  soldiers  seemed  undecided.  Suddenly  a  second 
column  emerged  from  the  door  on  the  right,  and  at  a  sig- 
nal from  the  commander,  the  captain  shouted, — 

"  Forward  !  Turn  them  all  out !  " 
'  Then  began  an  indescribable  hand-to-hand  fight  between 
the  gendarmes  and  the  legislators.  The  soldiers,  with 
their  guns  in  their  hands,  invaded  the  benches  of  the 
Senate.  Repellin,  Chanay,  Rantion,  were  forcibly  torn 
from  their  seats.  Two  gendarmes  rushed  upon  Marc  Du- 
fraisse, two  upon  Gambon.  A  long  struggle  took  place  on 
the  first  bench  of  the  Right,  the  same  place  where  MM. 
Odilon  Barrot  and  Abbatucci  were  in  the  habit  of  sitting:. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  53 

Paulin  Durrieu  resisted  violence  by  force,  it  needed  three 
men  to  drag  him  from  his  bench.  Monet  was  thrown 
down  upon  the  benches  of  the  Commissaries.  They 
seized  Adelsward  by  the  throat,  and  thrust  him  outside 
the  Hall.  Richardet,  a  feeble  man,  was  thrown  down  and 
brutally  treated.  Some  were  pricked  with  the  points  of 
the  bayonets ;  nearly  all  had  their  clothes  torn. 

The  commander  shouted  to  the  soldiers,  "  Rake  them 
out." 

It  was  thus  that  sixty  Representatives  of  the  People 
were  taken  by  the  collar  by  the  coup  d'etat,  and  driven 
from  their  seats.  The  manner  in  which  the  deed  was  ex- 
ecuted completed  the  treason.  The  physical  performance 
was  worthy  of  the  moral  performance. 

The  three  last  to  come  out  were  Fayolle,  Teillard- 
Laterisse,  and  Paulin  Durrieu. 

They  were  allowed  to  pass  by  the  great  door  of  the 
Palace,  and  they  found  themselves  in  the  Place  Bour- 
gogne. 

The  Place  Bourgogne  was  occupied  by  the  42d  Regi- 
ment of  the  Line,  under  the  orders  of  Colonel  Garderens. 

Between  the  Palace  and  the  statue  of  the  Republic, 
which  occupied  the  centre  of  the  square,  a  piece  of  artillery 
was  pointed  at  the  Assembly  opposite  the  great  door. 

By  the  side  of  the  cannon  some  Chasseurs  de  Vincennes 
were  loading  their  guns  and  biting  their  cartridges. 

Colonel  Garderens  was  on  horseback  near  a  group  of 
soldiers,  which  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Represent- 
atives Teillard-Laterisse,  Fayolle,  and  Paulin  Durrieu. 

In  the  middle  of  this  group  three  mejj,  who  had  been 
arrested,  were  struggling  vigorously,  crying,  "  Long  live 
the  Constitution  !     Vive  la  Republique  !  " 

Fayolle,  Paulin  Durrieu,  and  Teillard-Laterisse  ap- 
proached, and  recognized  in  the  three  prisoners  three  mem- 
bers of  the  majority,  Representatives  Toupet-des-Vignes 
Radoubt,  Lafosse,  and  Arbey. 

Representative  Arbey  was  warmly  protesting.  As  he 
raised  his  voice,  Colonel  Garderens  cut  him  short  with 
these  words,  which  are  worthy  of  preservation, — 

"Hold  your  tongue!  One  word  more,  and  I  will  have 
you  thrashed  with  the  butt-end  of  a  musket." 

The  three  Representatives  of  the  Left  indignantly  called 
upon  the  Colonel  to  release  their  colleagues. 


54  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  Colonel,"  said  Fayolle,  "  you  break  the  law  threefold." 

"  I  will  break  it  sixfold,"  answered  the  Colonel,  and  he 
arrested  Fayolle,  Durrieu,  and  Teillard-Laterisse. 

The  soldiers  were  ordered  to  conduct  them  to  the  guard- 
house of  the  Palace  then  being  built  for  the  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs. 

On  the  way  the  six  prisoners,  marching  between  a 
double  file  of  bayonets,  met  three  of  their  colleagues, 
Representatives  Eugene  Sue,  Chanay,  and  Benoist  (du 
Rhone). 

Eugene  Sue  placed  himself  before  the  officer  who  com- 
manded the  detachment,  and  said  to  him, — 

"  We  summon  you  to  set  our  colleagues  at  liberty." 

"  I  cannot  do  so,"  answered  the  officer. 

"  In  that  case  complete  your  crimes,"  said  Eugene  Sue. 
"  We  summon  you  to  arrest  us  also." 

The  officer  arrested  them. 

They  were  taken  to  the  guard-house  of  the  Ministry  for 
Foreign  Affairs,  and,  later  on,  to  the  barracks  of  the  Quai 
d'Orsay.  It  was  not  till  night  that  two  companies  of  the 
line  came  to  transfer  them  to  this  ultimate  resting-place. 

While  placing  them  between  his  soldiers  the  command- 
ing officer  bowed  down  to  the  ground,  politely  remarking, 
"  Gentlemen,  1113^  men's  guns  are  loaded." 

The  clearance  of  the  Hall  was  carried  out,  as  we  have 
said,  in  a  disorderly  fashion,  the  soldiers  pushing  the  Rep- 
resentatives before  them  through  all  the  outlets. 

Some,  and  amongst  the  number  those  of  whom  we  have 
just  spoken,  went  out  by  the  Rue  do  Bourgogne,  others 
were  dragged  through  the  Salle  des  Pas  Perdus  towards 
the  grated  door  opposite  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde* 

The  Salle  des  Pas  Perdus  has  an  ante-chamber,  a  sort 
of  crossway  room,  upon  which  opened  the  staircase  of  the 
High  Tribune,  and  several  doors,  amongst  others  the 
great  glass  door  of  the  gallery  which  leads  to  the  apart- 
ments of  the  President  of  the  Assembly. 

As  soon  as  they  had  reached  this  crossway  room  which 
adjoins  the  little  rotunda,  where  the  side  door  of  exit  of 
the  Palace  is  situated,  the  soldiers  set  the  Representatives 
free. 

*This  grated  door  was  closed  on  December  2,  and  was  not  reopened 
until  the  12th  March,  when  M.  Louis  Bonaparte  came  to  inspect  the 
works  of  the  Hall  of  the  Corps  Legislatif. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  55 

There,  in  a  few  moments,  a  group  was  formed,  in  which 
the  Representatives  Canet  and  Favreau  began  to  speak. 
One  universal  cry  was  raised,  "  Let  us  search  for  Dupin, 
let  us  drag  him  here  if  it  is  necessary." 

They  opened  the  glass  door  and  rushed  into  the  gallery. 
This  time  M.  Dupin  was  at  home.  M.  Dupin  having 
learnt  that  the  gendarmes  had  cleared  out  the  Hall,  had 
come  out  of  his  hiding-place.  The  Assembly  being  thrown 
prostrate,  Dupin  stood  erect.  The  law  being  made  pris- 
oner, this  man  felt  himself  set  free. 

The  group  of  Representatives,  led  by  MM.  Canet  and 
Favreau,  found  him  in  his  study. 

There  a  dialogue  ensued.  The  Representatives  sum- 
moned the  President  to  put  himself  at  their  head,  and  to 
re-enter  the  Hall,  he,  the  man  of  the  Assembly,  with  them, 
the  men  of  the  Nation. 

M.  Dupin  refused  point-blank,  maintained  his  ground, 
was  very  firm,  and  clung  bravely  to  his  nonentity. 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  "  said  he,  mingling  with 
his  alarmed  protests  many  law  maxims  and  Latin  quota- 
tions, an  instinct  of  chattering  jays,  who  pour  forth  all 
their  vocabulary  when  they  are  frightened.  "  What  do 
you  want  me  to  do?  Who  am  I?  What  can  I  do? 
I  am  nothing.  No  one  is  any  longer  anything.  Ubi  nihil, 
nihil.  Might  is  there.  Where  there  is  Might  the  people 
lose  their  Rights.  Nbvus  nascitur  ordo.  Shape  your 
course  accordingly.  I  am  obliged  to  submit.  Dura  lex, 
sed  lex.  A  law  of  necessity  we  admit,  but  not  a  law  of 
right.  But  what  is  to  be  done  ?  I  ask  to  be  let  alone. 
I  can  do  nothing.  I  do  what  I  can.  I  am  not  wanting  in 
good  will.  If  I  had  a  corporal  and  four  men,  I  would 
have  them  killed." 

"  This  man  only  recognizes  force,"  said  the  Represent- 
atives.    "  Very  well,  let  us  employ  force." 

They  used  violence  towards  him,  they  girded  him  with 
a  scarf  like  a  cord  round  his  neck,  and,  as  they  had  said, 
they  dragged  him  towards  the  Hall,  begging  for  his 
"liberty,"  moaning,  kicking — I  would  say  wrestling,  if 
the  word  were  not  too  exalted. 

Some  minutes  after  the  clearance,  this  Salle  des  Pas 
Perdus,  which  had  just  witnessed  Representatives  pass 
by  in  the  clutch  of  gendarmes,  sawM.  Dupin  in  the  clutch 
of  the  Representatives. 


56  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

They  did  not  get  far.  Soldiers  barred  the  great  green 
folding-doors.  Colonel  Espinasse  hurried  thither,  the 
commander  of  the  gendarmerie  came  up.  The  butt-ends 
of  a  pair  of  pistols  were  seen  peeping  out  of  the  command- 
er's pocket. 

The  colonel  was  pale,  the  commander  was  pale,  M. 
Dupin  was  livid.  Both  sides  were  afraid.  M.  Duj)in  was 
afraid  of  the  colonel ;  the  colonel  assuredly  was  not 
afraid  of  M.  Dupin,  but  behind  this  laughable  and  miser- 
able figure  he  saw  a  terrible  phantom  rise  up— his  crime, 
and  he  trembled.  In  Homer  there  is  a  scene  where 
Nemesis  appears  behind  Thersites. 

M.  Dupin  remained  for  some  moments  stupefied,  be- 
wildered and  speechless. 

The  Representative  Gambon  exclaimed  to  him, — 

"  Now  then,  speak,  M.  Dupin,  the  Left  does  not  inter- 
rupt you." 

Then,  with  the  words  of  the  Representatives  at  his  back, 
and  the  bayonets  of  the  soldiers  at  his  breast,  the  unhappy 
man  spoke.  What  his  mouth  uttered  at  this  moment, 
what  the  President  of  the  Sovereign  Assembly  of  France 
stammered  to  the  gendarmes  at  this  intensely  critical 
moment,  no  one  could  gather. 

Those  who  heard  the  last  gasps  of  this  moribund  cow- 
ardice, hastened  to  purify  their  ears.  It  appears,  how- 
ever, that  he  stuttered  forth  something  like  this  : — 

"  You  are  Might,  you  have  bayonets ;  I  invoke  Right, 
and  I  leave  you.  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you  good- 
day." 

He  went  away. 

They  let  him  go.  At  the  moment  of  leaving  he  turned 
round  and  let  fall  a  few  more  words.  We  will  not 
gather  them  up.     History  has  no  rag-picker's  basket. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AN   END    WORSE    THAN    DEATH. 

We  should  have  been  glad  to  have  put  aside,  never  to 
have  spoken  of  him  again,  this  man  who  had  borne  for 
three  years  this  most  honorable  title,  President  of  the 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  57 

National  Assembly  of  France,  and  who  had  only  known 
how  to  be  lacquey  to  the  majority.  He  contrived  in  his 
last  hour  to  sink  even  lower  than  could  have  been  believed 
possible  even  for  him.  His  career  in  the  Assembly  had 
been  that  of  a  valet,  his  end  was  that  of  a  scullion. 

The  unprecedented  attitude  that  M.  Dupin  assumed 
before  the  gendarmus  when  uttering  with  a  grimace  his 
mockery  of  a  protest,  even  engendered  suspicion.  Gam- 
bon  exclaimed,  "  He  resists  like  an  accomplice.  He  knew 
all." 

We  believe  these  suspicions  to  be  unjust.  M.  Dupin 
knew  nothing.  Who  indeed  amongst  the  organizers  of 
the  coup  d'etat  would  have  taken  the  trouble  to  make  sure 
of  his  joining  them  ?  Corrupt  M.  Dupin  ?  was  it  possible  ? 
And,  further,  to  what  purpose  ?  To  pay  him  ?  Why  ? 
It  would  be  money  wasted  when  fear  alone  was  enough. 
Some  connivances  are  secured  before  they  are  sought  for. 
Cowardice  is  the  old  fawner  upon  felony.  The  blood  of 
the  law  is  quickly  wiped  up.  Behind  the  assassin  who 
holds  the  poniard  comes  the  trembling  wretch  who  holds 
the  sponge. 

Dupin  took  refuge  in  his  study.     They  followed  him. 

"  My  God !  "  he  cried,  "  can't  they  understand  that  I 
want  to  be  left  in  peace." 

In  truth  they  had  tortured  him  ever  since  the  morning, 
in  order  to  extract  from  him  an  impossible  scrap  of 
courage. 

"  You  ill-treat  me  worse  than  the  gendarmes,"  said  he. 

The  Representatives  installed  themselves  in  his  study, 
seated  themselves  at  his  table,  and,  while  he  groaned  and 
scolded  in  an  arm-chair,  they  drew  up  a  formal  report  of 
what  had  just  taken  place,  as  they  wished  to  leave  an 
official  record  of  the  outrage  in  the  archives. 

When  the  official  report  was  ended  1  Representative 
Canet  read  it  to  the  President,  and  offered  him  a  pen. 

"•  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  with  this  ?  "  he  asked. 

"You  are  the  President,"  answered  Canet.  "This  is 
our  last  sitting.  It  is  your  duty  to  sign  the  official  re- 
port." 

This  man  refused. 


58  THE  HISTOBT  OF  A  CRIME. 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  BLACK  DOOB. 

M.  Dunisr  is  a  matchless  disgrace. 

Later  on  he  had  his  reward.  It  appears  that  he  became 
some  sort  of  an  Attorney-General  at  the  Court  of  Appeal. 

M.  Dupin  renders  to  Louis  Bonaparte  the  service  of 
being  in  his  place  the  meanest  of  men. 

To  continue  this  dismal  history. 

The  Representatives  of  the  Right,  in  their  first  bewilder- 
ment caused  by  the  coup  d'etat,  hastened  in  large  numbers 
to  M.  Daru,  who  was  Vice-President  of  the  Assembly, 
and  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  Presidents  of  the  Pyramid 
Club.  This  Association  had  always  supported  the  policy 
of  the  Elysee,  but  without  believing  that  a  coup  d'etat 
was  premeditated.     M.  Daru  lived  at  No.  75,  Rue  de  Lille. 

Towards  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  about  a  hundred  of 
these  Representatives  had  assembled  at  M.  Dam's  home. 
They  resolved  to  attempt  to  penetrate  into  the  Hall  where 
the  Assembly  held  its  sittings.  The  Rue  de  Lille  opens 
out  into  the  Rue  de  Bourgogne,  almost  opposite  the  little 
door  by  which  the  Palace  is  entered,  and  which  is  called 
the  Black  Door. 

They  turned  their  steps  towards  this  door,  with  M. 
Daru  at  their  head.  They  marched  arm  in  arm  and  three 
abreast.  Some  of  them  had  put  on  their  scarves  of  office. 
They  took  them  off  later  on. 

The  Black  Door,  half-open  as  usual,  was  only  guarded 
by  two  sentries. 

Some  of  the  most  indignant,  and  amongst  them  M.  de 
Kerdrel,  rushed  towards  this  door  and  tried  to  pass. 
The  door,  however,  was  violently  shut,  and  there  ensued 
between  the  Representatives  and  the  sergents  de  vdle  who 
hastened  up,  a  species  of  struggle,  in  which  a  Represent- 
ative had  his  wrist  sprained. 

At  the  same  time  a  battalion  which  was  drawn  up  on 
the  Place  de  Bourgogne  moved  on,  and  came  at  the  double 
towards  the  group  of  Representatives.  M.  Daru,  stately 
and  firm,  signed  to  the  commander  to  stop ;  the  battalion 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  59 

halted,  and  M.  Daru,  in  the  name  of  the  Constitution, 
and  in  his  capacity  as  Vice-President  of  the  Assembly, 
summoned  the  soldiers  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and  to 
give  free  passage  to  the  Representatives  of  the  Sovereign 
People. 

The  commander  of  the  battalion  replied  by  an  order  to 
clear  the  street  immediately,  declaring  that  there  was  no 
longer  an  Assembly  ;  that  as  for  himself,  he  did  not  know 
what  the  Representatives  of  the  People  were,  and  that  if 
those  persons  before  him  did  not  retire  of  their  own 
accord,  he  would  drive  them  back  by  force. 

"  We  will  only  yield  to  violence,"  said  M.  Daru. 

"  You  commit  high  treason,"  added  M.  de  Kerdrel. 

The  officer  gave  the  order  to  charge. 

The  soldiers  advanced  in  close  order. 

There  was  a  moment  of  confusion  ;  almost  a  collision. 
The  Representatives,  forcibly  driven  back,  ebbed  into  the 
Rue  de  Lille.  Some  of  them  fell  down.  Several  members 
of  the  Right  were  rolled  in  the  mud  by  the  soldiers.  One 
of  them,  M.  Etienne,  received  a  blow  on  the  shoulder  from 
the  butt-end  of  a  musket.  We  may  here  add  that  a  week 
afterwards  M.  Etienne  was  a  member  of  that  concern 
which  they  styled  the  Consultative  Committee.  He  found 
the  coup  d'etat  to  his  taste,  the  blow  with  the  butt-end  of 
a  musket  included. 

They  went  back  to  M.  Daru's  house,  and  on  the  way 
the  scattered  group  reunited,  and  was  even  strengthened 
by  some  new-comers. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  M.  Daru,  "  the  President  has  failed 
us,  the  Hall  is  closed  against  us.  I  am  the  Vice-Presi- 
dent ;  my  house  is  the  Palace  of  the  Assembly." 

lie  opened  a  large  room,  and  there  the  Representatives 
of  the  Right  installed  themselves.  At  first  the  discus- 
sions were  somewhat  noisy.  M.  Daru,  however,  ob- 
served that  the  moments  were  precious,  and  silence  was 
restored. 

The  first  measure  to  be  taken  was  evidently  the  deposi- 
tion of  the  President  of  the  Republic  by  virtue  of  Article 
OS  of  the  Constitution.  Some  Representatives  of  the  party 
which  was  called  Bur  graven  sat  round  a  table  and  pre- 
pared the  deed  of  deposition. 

As  they  were  about  to  read  it  aloud  a  Representative 
who  came  in  from  out  of  doors  appeared  at  the  door  of 


60  TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

the  room,  and  announced  to  the  Assembly  that  the  Rue 
de  Lille  was  becoming  filled  with  troops,  and  that  the 
house  was  being  surrounded. 

There  was  not  a  moment  to  lose. 

M.  Benoist-d'Azy  said,  "Gentlemen,  let  us  go  to  the 
Mairie  of  the  tenth  arrondissement ;  there  we  shall  be 
able  to  deliberate  under  the  protection  of  the  tenth 
legion,  of  which  our  colleague,  General  Lauriston,  is  the 
colonel. 

M.  Daru's  house  had  a  back  entrance  by  a  little  door 
which  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden.  Most  of  the  Rep- 
resentatives went  out  that  way. 

M.  Daru  was  about  to  follow  them.  Only  himself,  M. 
Odilon  Barrot,  and  two  or  three  others  remained  in  the 
room,  when  the  door  opened.  A  captain  entered,  and 
said  to  M.  Daru, — 

"  Sir,  you  are  my  prisoner." 

"  Where  am  I  to  follow  you  ?  "  asked  M.  Daru. 

"  I  have  orders  to  watch  over  you  in  your  own  house." 

The  house,  in  truth,  was  militarily  occupied,  and  it 
was  thus  that  M.  Daru  was  prevented  from  taking  part 
in  the  sitting  at  the  Mairie  of  the  tenth  arrondissement. 

The  officer  allowed  M.  Odilon  Barrot  to  go  out. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    HIGH   COURT    OP   JUSTICE. 

While  all  this  was  taking  place  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
river,  towards  noon  a  man  was  noticed  walking  up  and 
down  the  great  Salles  des  Pas  Perdus  of  the  Palace  of 
Justice.  This  man,  carefully  buttoned  up  in  an  overcoat, 
appeared  to  be  attended  at  a  distance  by  several  possible 
supporters — for  certain  police  enterprises  employ  assist- 
ants whose  dubious  appearance  renders  the  passers-by 
uneasy,  so  much  so  that  they  wonder  whether  they  are 
magistrates  or  thieves.  The  man  in  the  buttoned-up 
overcoat  loitered  from  door  to  door,  from  lobby  to  lobby, 
exchanging  signs  of  intelligence  with  the  myrmidons 
who  followed  him ;  then  came  back  to  the  great  Hall, 
stopping  on  the  way  the  barristers,  solicitors,   ushers, 


THK  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  61 

clerks,  and  attendants,  and  repeating  to  all  in  a  low  voice, 
so  as  not  to  be  heard  by  the  passers-by,  the  same  ques- 
tion. To  this  question  some  answered  "  Yes,"  others  re- 
plied "  No."  And  the  man  set  to  work  again,  prowling 
about  the  Palace  of  Justice  with  the  appearance  of  a 
bloodhound  seeking  the  trail. 

He  was  a  Commissary  of  the  Arsenal  Police. 

What  was  he  looking  for  ? 

The  High  Court  of  Justice. 

What  was  the  High  Court  of  Justice  doing? 

It  was  hiding. 

Why  ?    To  sit  in  Judgment  ? 

Yes  and  no. 

The  Commissary  of  the  Arsenal  Police  had  that  morn- 
ing received  from  the  Prefect  Maupas  the  order  to  search 
everywhere  for  the  place  where  the  High  Court  of  Justice 
might  be  sitting,  if  perchance  it  thought  it  its  duty  to 
meet.  Confusing  the  High  Court  with  the  Council  of 
State,  the  Commissary  of  Police  had  first  gone  to  the 
Quai  d'Orsay.  Having  found  nothing,  not  even  the 
Council  of  State,  he  had  come  away  empty-handed,  at  all 
events  had  turned  his  steps  towards  the  Palace  of  Justice, 
thinking  that  as  he  had  to  search  for  justice  he  would 
perhaps  find  it  there. 

Not  rinding  it,  he  went  away. 

The  High  Court,  however,  had  nevertheless  met 
together. 

Where,  and  how  ?    We  shall  see. 

At  the  period  whose  annals  we  are  now  chronicling, 
before  the  present  reconstruction  of  the  old  buildings  of 
Paris,  when  the  Palace  of  Justice  was  reached  by  the 
Cour  de  Harlay,  a  staircase  the  reverse  of  majestic  led 
thither  by  turning  out  into  a  long  corridor  called  the 
Gallerie  Merciere.  Towards  the  middle  of  this  corridor 
there  were  two  doors ;  one  on  the  right,  which  led  to  the 
Court  of  Appeal,  the  other  on  the  left,  which  led  to  the 
Court  of  Cassation.  The  folding-doors  to  the  left  opened 
upon  an  old  gallery  called  St.  Louis,  recently  restored, 
and  which  serves  at  the  present  time  for  a  Salle  des  Pas 
Perdus  to  the  barristers  of  the  Court  of  Cassation.  A 
wooden  statue  of  St.  Louis  stood  opposite  the  entrance 
door.  An  entrance  contrived  in  a  niche  to  the  right  of 
this  statue  led  into  a  winding  lobby  ending  in  a  sort  of 


62  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

blind  passage,  which  apparently  was  closed  by  two  double 
doors.  On  the  door  to  the  right  might  be  read  "  First 
President's  Room ; "  on  the  door  to  the  left,  "  Council 
Chamber."  Between  these  two  doors,  for  the  convenience 
of  the  barristers  going  from  the  Hall  to  the  Civil  Chamber, 
which  formerly  was  the  Great  Chamber  of  Parliament, 
had  been  formed  a  narrow  and  dark  passage,  in  which,  as 
one  of  them  remarked,  "  every  crime  could  be  committed 
with  impunity." 

Leaving  on  one  side  the  First  President's  Room  and 
opening  the  door  which  bore  the  inscription  "  Council 
Chamber,"  a  large  room  was  crossed,  furnished  with  a  huge 
horse-shoe  table,  surrounded  by  green  chairs.  At  the 
end  of  this  room,  which  in  1793  had  served  as  a  deliberat- 
ing hall  for  the  juries  of  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal, 
there  was  a  door  placed  in  the  wainscoting,  which  led 
into  a  little  lobby  where  were  two  doors,  on  the  right  the 
door  of  the  room  appertaining  to  the  President  of  the 
Criminal  Chamber,  on  the  left  the  door  of  the  Refresh- 
ment Room.  "  Sentenced  to  death ! — Now  let  us  go  and 
dine  ! "  These  two  ideas,  Death  and  Dinner,  have  jostled 
against  each  other  for  centuries.  A  third  door  closed  the 
extremity  of  this  lobby.  This  door  was,  so  to  speak,  the 
last  of  the  Palace  of  Justice,  the  farthest  off,  the  least 
known,  the  most  hidden;  it  opened  into  what  was  called 
the  Library  of  the  Court  of  Cassation,  a  large  square  room 
lighted  by  two  windows  overlooking  the  great  inner  yard 
of  the  Conccirgerie,  furnished  with  a  few  leather  chairs, 
a  large  table  covered  with  green  cloth,  and  with  law 
books  lining  the  walls  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling. 

This  room,  as  maybe  seen,  is.  the  most  secluded  and 
the  best  hidden  of  any  in  the  Palace. 

It  was  here, — in  this  room,  that  there  arrived  succes- 
sively on  the  2d  December,  towards  eleven  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  numerous  men  dressed  in  black,  without 
robes,  without  badges  of  office,  affrighted,  bewildered, 
shaking  their  heads,  and  whispering  together.  These 
trembling  men  were  the  High  Court  of  Justice. 

The  High  Court  of  Justice,  according  to  the  terms  of 
the  Constitution,  was  composed  of  seven  magistrates ;  a 
President,  four  Judges,  and  two  Assistants,  chosen  by 
the  Court  of  Cassation  from  among  its  own  members  and 
renewed  every  year. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  63 

In  December,  1851,  these  seven  judges  were  named 
Hardouin,  Pataille,  Moreau,  Delapalme,  Cauchy,  Grandet, 

and  Quesnault,  the  two  last-named  being  Assistants. 

These  men,  almost  unknown,  had  nevertheless  some 
antecedents.  M.  Cauchy,  a  few  years  previously  Presi- 
dent of  the  Chamber  of  the  Royal  Court  of  Paris,  an  amia- 
ble man  and  easily  frightened,  was  the  brother  of  the 
mathematician,  member  of  the  Institute,  to  whom  we  owe 
the  computation  of  waves  of  sound,  and  of  the  ex-Regis- 
trar Archivist  of  the  Chamber  of  Peers.  M.  Delapalme 
had  been  Advocate-General,  and  had  taken  a  prominent 
part  in  the  Press  trials  under  the  Restoration  ;  M.  Pataille 
had  been  Deputy  of  the  Centre  under  the  Monarchy  of 
July ;  M.  Moreau  (de  la  Seine)  was  noteworthy,  inasmuch 
as  he  had  been  nicknamed  "  de  la  Seine  "  to  distinguish 
him  from  M.  Moreau  (de  la  Meurthe),  who  on  his  side 
was  noteworthy,  inasmuch  as  he  had  been  nicknamed  "  de 
la  Meurthe "  to  distinguish  him  from  M.  Moreau  (de  la 
Seine).  The  first  Assistant,  M.  Grandet,  had  been  Presi- 
dent of  the  Chamber  at  Paris.  I  have  read  this  panegyric 
of  him  :  "  He  is  known  to  possess  no  individuality  or 
opinion  of  his  own  whatsoever."  The  second  Assistant, 
M.  Quesnault,  a  Liberal,  a  Deputy,  a  Public  Functionary, 
Advocate-General,  a  Conservative,  learned,  obedient,  had 
attained  by  making  a  stepping- stone  of  each  of  these  attri- 
butes, to  the  Criminal  Chamber  of  the  Court  of  Cassation, 
where  he  was  known  as  one  of  the  most  severe  members. 
1848  had  shocked  his  notion  of  Right,  he  had  resigned  after 
the  24th  of  February ;  he  did  not  resign  after  the  2d 
December. 

M.  Hardouin,  who  presided  over  the  High  Court,  was 
an  ex-President  of  Assizes,  a  religious  man,  a  rigid  Jan- 
senist,  noted  amongst  his  colleagues  as  a  "scrupulous 
magistrate,"  living  in  Port  Royal,  a  diligent  reader  of 
Nicolle,  belonging  to  the  race  of  the  old  Parliamentarians 
of  the  Marais,  who  used  to  go  to  the  Palais  de  Justice 
mounted  on  a  mule  ;  the  mule  had  now  gone  out  of  fashion, 
and  whoever  visited  President  Hardouin  would  have  found 
no  more  obstinacy  in  his  stable  than  in  his  conscience. 

On  the  morning  of  the  2d  December,  at  nine  o'clock, 
two  men  mounted  the  stairs  of  M.  Hardouin's  house,  No. 
10,  Rue  de  Condu,  and  met  together  at  his  door.  One  was 
M.  Pataille ;  the  other,  one  of  the  most  prominent  mem- 


64  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

bers  of  the  bar  of  the  Court  of  Cassation,  was  the  ex-Con- 
stituent Martin  (of  Strasbourg).  M.  Pataille  had  just 
placed  himself  at  M.  Hardouin's  disposal. 

Martin's  first  thought,  while  reading  the  placards  of  the 
coup  d'etat,  had  been  for  the  High  Court.  M.  Hardouin 
ushered  M.  Pataille  into  a  room  adjoining  his  study,  and 
received  Martin  (of  Strasbourg)  as  a  man  to  whom  he  did 
not  wish  to  speak  before  witnesses.  Being  formally  re- 
quested by  Martin  (of  Strasbourg)  to  convene  the  High 
Court,  he  begged  that  he  would  leave  him  alone,  declared 
that  the  High  Court  would  "  do  its  duty,"  but  that  first 
he  must  "  confer  with  his  colleagues,"  concluding  with 
this  expression,  "  It  shall  be  done  to-day  or  to-morrow." 
"  To-day  or  to-morrow  !  "  exclaimed  Martin  (of  Stras- 
bourg);  "Mr.  President,  the  safety  of  the  Republic,  the 
safety  of  the  country,  perhaps,  depends  on  what  the  High 
Court  will  or  will  not  do.  Your  responsibility  is  great ; 
bear  that  in  mind.  The  High  Court  of  Justice  does  not 
do  its  duty  to-day  or  to-morrow ;  it  does  it  at  once,  at 
the  moment,  without  losing  a  minute,  without  an  instant's 
hesitation." 

Martin  (of  Strasbourg)  was  right,  Justice  always  be- 
longs to  To-day. 

Martin  (of  Strasbourg)  added,  "  If  you  want  a  man  for 
active  work,  I  am  at  your  service."  M.  Hardouin  declined 
the  offer ;  declared  that  he  would  not  lose  a  moment,  and 
begged  Martin  (of  Strasbourg)  to  leave  him  to  "  confer  " 
with  his  colleague,  M.  Pataille. 

In  fact,  he  called  together  the  High  Court  for  eleven 
o'clock,  and  it  was  settled  that  the  meeting  should  take 
place  in  the  Hall  of  the  Library. 

The  Judges  were  punctual.  At  a  quarter-past  eleven 
they  were  all  assembled.    M.  Pataille  arrived  the  last. 

They  sat  at  the  end  of  the  great  green  table.  They 
were  alone  in  the  Library. 

There  was  no  ceremonial.  President  Hardouin  thus 
opened  the  debate:  " Gentlemen,  there  is  no  need  to  ex- 
plain the  situation,  we  all  know  what  it  is." 

Article  68  of  the  Constitution  was  imperative.  It  was 
necessary  that  the  High  Court  should  meet  under  penalty 
of  high  treason.  They  gained  time,  they  swore  themselves 
in,  they  appointed  as  Recorder  of  the  High  Court  M. 
Bernard,  Recorder  of  the  Court  of  Cassation,  and  they  sent 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  65 

to  fetch  him,  and  while  waiting  requested  the  librarian, 
M.  Denevers,  to  hold  his  pen  in  readiness.  They  settled 
the  time  and  place  for  an  evening  meeting.  They  talked 
of  the  conduct  of  the  Constituent  Martin  (of  Strasbourg), 
with  which  they  were  offended,  regarding  it  almost  as  a 
nudge  of  the  elbow  given  by  Politics  to  Justice.  They 
spoke  a  little  of  Socialism,  of  the  Mountain,  and  of  the 
Red  Republic,  and  a  little  also  of  the  judgment  which 
they  had  to  pronounce.  They  chatted,  they  told  stories, 
they  found  fault,  they  speculated,  they  spun  out  the 
time. 

What  were  they  waiting  for  ? 

We  have  related  what  the  Commissary  of  police  was 
doing  for  his  part  in  his  department. 

And,  in  reference  to  this  design,  when  the  accomplices 
of  the  coup  d'etat  considered  that  the  people  in  order  to 
summon  the  High  Court  to  do  its  duty,  could  invade  the 
Palace  of  Justice,  and  that  they  would  never  look  for  it 
where  it  was  assembled,  they  felt  that  this  room  had  been 
excellently  chosen.  When,  however,  they  considered 
that  the  police  would  also  doubtless  come  to  expel  the 
High  Court,  and  that  perhaps  they  would  not  succeed  in 
finding  it,  each  one  regretted  to  himself  the  cboice  of  the 
room.  They  wished  to  hide  the  High  Court,  they  had 
succeeded  too  well.  It  was  grievous  to  think  that  perhaps 
when  the  police  and  the  armed  force  should  arrive,  mat- 
ters would  have  gone  too  far,  and  the  High  Court  would 
be  too  deeply  compromised. 

They  had  appointed  a  Recorder,  now  they  must  or- 
ganize a  Court.  A  second  step,  more  serious  than  the 
first. 

The  judges  delayed,  hoping  that  fortune  would  end  by 
deciding  on  one  side  or  the  other,  either  for  the  Assembly 
or  for  the  President,  either  against  the  coup  cVetat  or  for 
it,  and  that  there  might  thus  be  a  vanquished  party,  so 
that  the  High  Court  could  then  with  all  safety  lay  its 
hands  upon  somebody. 

They  lengthily  argued  the  question,  whether  they 
should  immediately  decree  the  accusation  of  the  Presi- 
dent, or  whether  they  should  draw  up  a  simple  order  of 
inquiry.     The  latter  course  was  adopted. 

They  drew  up  a  judgment,  not  the  honest  and  out- 
spoken judgment  which  was  placarded  by  the  efforts  of 


66  TUB  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

the  Representatives  of  the  Left  and  published,  in  which 
are  found  these  words  of  bad  taste,  CWmeand  High  Trea- 
son ;  this  judgment,  a  weapon  of  war,  has  never  existed 
otherwise  than  as  a  projectile.  Wisdom  in  a  judge  some- 
times consists  in  drawing  up  a  judgment  which  is  not 
one,  one  of  those  judgments  which  has  no  binding  force, 
in  which  everything  is  conditional,  in  which  no  one  is 
incriminated,  and  nothing  is  called  by  its  right  name. 
There  are  species  of  intermediate  courses  which  allow  of 
waiting  and  seeing;  in  delicate  crises  men  who  are  in 
earnest  must  not  inconsiderately  mingle  with  possible 
events  that  bluntness  which  is  called  Justice.  The  High 
Court  took  advantage  of  this,  it  drew  up  a  prudent  judg- 
ment; this  judgment  is  not  known;  it  is  published  here 
for  the  first  time.  Here  it  is.  It  is  a  masterpiece  of 
equivocal  style : — 

EXTRACT 

From  tub  Registry  of  the  High  Court  of  Justice. 

"  The  High  Court  of  Justice. 

"  According  to  Article  68  of  the  Constitution,  consider- 
ing that  printed  placards  beginning  with  these 
words,  '  The  President  of  the  Republic  '  and  ending 
with  the  signatures,  '  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte ' 
and  '  De  Morny,  Minister  of  the  Interior,'  the  said 
placards  ordaining  amongst  other  measures  the 
dissolution  of  the  National  Assembly,  have  been 
posted  to-day  on  the  walls  of  Paris,  that  this  fact 
of  the  dissolution  of  the  National  Assembly  by  the 
President  of  the  Republic  would  be  of  the  nature 
to  constitute  the  case  provided  for  by  Article  68  of 
the  Constitution,  and  renders,  in  the  terms  of  the 
aforesaid  article,  the  meeting  of  the  High  Court 
indispensable. 

"  It  is  declared  that  the  High  Court  of  Justice  is  or- 
ganized, that  it  appoints*  ...  to  fulfil  with 
it  the  functions  of  the  Public  Ministry ;  that  M. 
Bernard,  the  Recorder  of  the  Court  of  Cassation, 
should  fulfil  the  duties  of  Recorder,  and  in  order 
to  proceed  further,  according  to  the  terms  of  the 

*  This  line  was  left  blank.     It  was  filled  in  later  on  with  the  name 
of  M.  Renouard.  Councillor  of  the  Court  of  Cassation. 


THE  IIISTOBY  OF  A  CHIME.  67 

aforesaid  Article  68  of  the  Constitution,  the  Court 
will  adjourn  until  to-morrow,  the  3d  of  December, 
at  noon. 
"  Drawn  up  and  discussed  in  the   Council  Chamber, 
where    were    sitting    MM.   Ilardouin,    president, 
Pataille,  Moreau,  Delapalme,  and  Cauchy,  judges, 
December  2,  1851." 
The    two  Assistants,   MM.   Grandet    and    Quesnault, 
offered  to  sign  the  decree,  but  the  President  ruled  that  it 
would  be  more  correct  only  to  accept  the  signatures  of 
the  titular  judges,  the  Assistants  not  being  qualified  when 
the  Court  was  complete. 

In  the  meantime  it  was  one  o'clock,  the  news  began  to 
spread  through  the  palace  that  a  decree  of  deposition 
against  Louis  Bonaparte  had  been  drawn  up  by  a  part  of 
the  Assembly ;  one  of  the  judges  who  had  gone  out  dur- 
ing the  debate,  brought  back  this  rumor  to  his  colleagues. 
This  coincided  with  an  outburst  of  energy.  The  Presi- 
dent observed  that  it  would  be  to  the  purpose  to  appoint 
a  Procureur-General. 

Here  was  a  difficulty.  Whom  should  they  appoint? 
In  all  preceding  trials  they  had  always  chosen  for  a  Pro- 
cureur-General at  the  High  Court  the  Procureur-General 
at  the  Court  of  Appeal  of  Paris.  Why  should  they  in- 
troduce an  innovation  ?  They  determined  upon  this  Pro- 
cureur-General of  the  Court  of  Appeal.  This  Procureur- 
General  was  at  the  time  M.  de  Royer,  who  had  been 
keeper  of  the  Seals  for  M.  Bonaparte.  Thence  a  new 
difficulty  and  a  long  debate. 

Would  M.  de  Royer  consent?  M.  Ilardouin  undertook 
to  go  and  make  the  offer  to  him.  He  had  only  to  cross 
the  Merciere  Gallery. 

M.  de  Royer  was  in  his  study.  The  proposal  greatly 
embarrassed  him.  He  remained  speechless  from  the 
shock.  To  accept  was  serious,  to  refuse  was  still  more 
serious. 

There  was  risk  of  treason.  On  the  2d  December,  an 
hour  after  noon,  the  coup  cVetat  was  still  a  crime.  M.  de 
Royer,  not  knowing  whether  the  high  treason  would 
succeed,  ventured  to  stigmatize  the  deed  as  such  in  private, 
and  cast  down  his  eyes  with  a  noble  shame  before  this 
violation  of  the  laws  which,  three  months  later,  numerous 
purple   robes,   including  his  own,  endorsed   with   their 


68  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

oaths.  But  his  indignation  did  not  go  to  the  extent 
of  supporting  the  indictment.  An  indictment  speaks 
aloud.  M.  de  Royer  as  yet  only  murmured.  He  was 
perplexed. 

M.  Ilardouin  understood  this  state  of  conscience. 
Persistence  would  have  been  unreasonable.  He  with- 
drew. 

He  returned  to  the  room  where  his  colleagues  were 
awaiting  him. 

In  the  meantime  the  Commissary  of  the  Arsenal  Police 
had  come  back. 

He  had  ended  by  succeeding  in  "  unearthing  " — such 
was  his  expression — the  High  Court.  He  penetrated  as 
far  as  the  Council  Chamber  of  the  Civil  Chamber ;  at  that 
moment  he  had  still  no  other  escort  than  the  few  police 
agents  of  the  morning.  A  boy  was  passing  by.  The 
Commissary  asked  him  the  whereabouts  of  the  High  Court. 
"The  High  Court?"  answered  the  boy;  "what  is  that?" 
Nevertheless  the  boy  told  the  Librarian,  who  came  up. 
A  few  words  were  exchanged  between  M.  Denevers  and 
the  Commissary. 

"  What  are  you  asking  for  ?  " 

"The  High  Court." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  want  the  High  Court." 

"  It  is  in  session." 

"  Where  is  it  sitting  ?  " 

"  Here." 

And  the  Librarian  pointed  to  the  door. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Commissary. 

He  did  not  add  another  word,  and  returned  into  the 
Merciere  Gallery. 

We  have  just  said  that  he  wTas  only  accompanied  at 
that  time  by  a  few  police  agents. 

The  High  Court  was,  in  truth,  in  session.  The  Presi- 
dent was  relating  to  the  judges  his  visit  to  the  Procureur- 
General.  Suddenly  a  tumultuous  sound  of  footsteps  is 
heard  in  the  lobby  which  leads  from  the  Council  Chamber 
to  the  room  where  they  were  deliberating.  The  door 
opens  abruptly.  Bayonets  appear,  and  in  the  midst  of 
the  bayonets  a  man  in  a  buttoned-up  overcoat,  with  a  tri- 
colored  sash  upon  his  coat. 

The  magistrates  stare,  stupefied. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  69 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  man,  "dissolve  your  meeting 
immediately." 

President  Hardouin  rises. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  Who  are  you  ?  Are  you 
aware  to  whom  you  are  speaking  ?  " 

"  I  am  aware.  You  are  the  High  Court,  and  I  am  the 
the  Commissary  of  the  Police." 

"Well,  then?" 

"  Be  off." 

"  There  were  there  thirty-five  municipal  guards,  com- 
manded by  a  lieutenant,  and  with  a  drum  at  their  head. 

"  But "  said  the  President. 

The  Commissary  interrupted  him  with  these  words, 
which  are  literally  given, — 

"  Mr.  President,  I  am  not  going  to  enter  upon  an 
oratorical  combat  with  you.  I  have  my  orders,  and  I 
transmit  them  to  you.     Obey." 

»  Whom  ?  " 

"  The  Prefect  of  Police." 

The  President  asked  this  strange  question,  which  im- 
plied the  acceptance  of  an  order, — 

"  Have  you  a  warrant?" 

The  Commissary  answered, — 

"  Yes." 

And  he  handed  a  paper  to  the  President. 

The  judges  turned  pale. 

The  President  unfolded  the  paper ;  M.  Cauchy  put  his 
head  over  M.  Hardouin's  shoulder.  The  President  read 
out, — 

"  You  are  ordered  to  dissolve  the  High  Court,  and,  in 
case  of  refusal,  to  arrest  MM.  Beranger,  Rocher,  De 
Boissieux,  Pataille,  and  Hello." 

And,  turning  towards  the  judges,  the  President 
added,— 

"  Signed,  Maupas." 

Then,  addressing  himself  to  the  Commissary,  he  re- 
sumed,— 

"  There  is  some  mistake,  these  are  notour  names.  MM. 
Beranger,  Rocher,  and  De  Boissieux  have  served  their 
time  and  are  no  longer  judges  of  the  High  Court;  as  for 
M.  Hello,  he  is  dead." 

The  High  Court,  in  reality,  was  temporary  and  renew- 
able ;  the  coup  d'etat  overthrew  the  Constitution,  but  did 


70  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

not  understand  it.  The  warrant  signed  "  Maupas  "  was 
applicable  to  the  preceding  High  Court.  The  coup  cVetat 
had  been  misled  by  an  old  list.  Such  is  the  heedlessness 
of  assassins. 

"  Mr.  Commissary  of  Police,"  continued  the  President, 
"  you  see  that  these  names  are  not  ours." 

"  That  does  not  matter  to  me,"  replied  the  Commissary. 
"  Whether  this  warrant  does  or  does  not  apply  to  you, 
disperse,  or  I  shall  arrest  all  of  you." 

And  he  added, — 

"  At  once." 

The  judges  were  silenced;  one  of  them  picked  up  from 
the  table  a  loose  sheet  of  paper,  which  was  the  judgment 
they  had  drawn  up,  and  put  the  paper  in  his  pocket. 
Then  they  went  away. 

The  Commissary  pointed  to  the  door  where  the  bayo- 
nets were,  and  said, — 

"  That  way." 

They  went  out  by  the  lobby  between  two  ranks  of 
soldiers.  The  detachment  of  Republican  Guards  escorted 
them  as  far  as  the  St.  Louis  Gallery. 

There  they  set  them  free ;  their  heads  bowed  down. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock. 

While  these  events  were  taking  place  in  the  Library, 
close  by,  in  the  former  great  Chamber  of  the  Parliament, 
the  Court  of  Cassation  was  sitting  in  judgment  as  usual, 
without  noticing  what  was  happening  so  near  at  hand. 
It  would  appear,  then,  that  the  police  exhaled  no  odor. 

Let  us  at  once  have  done  with  this  High  Court. 

In  the  evening  at  half-past  seven  the  seven  judges  met 
together  at  the  house  of  one  of  their  number,  he  who  had 
taken  away  the  decree ;  they  framed  an  official  report, 
drew  up  a  protest,  and  recognizing  the  necessity  of  fill- 
ing in  the  line  left  blank  in  their  decree,  on  the  proposi- 
tion of  M.  Quesnault,  appointed  as  Procureur-General 
M.  Renouard,  their  colleague  at  the  Court  of  Cassation. 
M.  Renouard,  who  was  immediately  informed,  consented. 

They  met  together  for  the  last  time  on  the  next  day,  the 
3d,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  an  hour  before  the 
time  mentioned  in  the  judgment  which  we  have  read 
above, — again  in  the  Library  of  the  Court  of  Cassation. 
M.  Renouard  was  present.  An  official  minute  was  given 
to  him,  recording  his  appointment,  as  well  as  certain  de- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A. CRIME.  71 

tails  with  which  he  asked  to  be  supplied.  The  judgment 
which  had  been  drawn  up  was  taken  by  M.  Quesnault  to 
the  Recorder's  Office,  and  immediately  entered  upon  the 
Register  of  the  Secret  Deliberations  of  the  Court  of  Cas- 
sation, the  High  Court  not  having  a  Special  Register,  and 
having  decided,  from  its  creation,  to  use  the  Register  of 
the  Court  of  Cassation.  After  the  decree  they  also  tran- 
scribed the  two  documents  described  as  follows  on  the 
Register : — 

I.  An  official  report  recording  the  interference  of  the 
police  during  the  discussion  upon  the  preceding  decree. 

IT.  A  minute  of  the  appointment  of  M.  Renouard  to  the 
office  of  Procureur-General-. 

In  addition  seven  copies  of  these  different  documents 
drawn  up  by  the  hands  of  the  judges  themselves,  and 
signed  by  them  all,  were  put  in  a  place  of  safety,  as  also, 
it  is  said,  a  note-book,  in  which  were  written  five  other 
secret  decisions  relating  to  the  coup  d'etat. 

Does  this  page  of  the  Register  of  the  Court  of  Cassa- 
tion exist  at  the  present  time  ?  Is  it  true,  as  has  been 
stated,  that  the  prefect  Maupas  sent  for  the  Register  and 
tore  out  the  leaf  containing  the  decree  ?  We  have  not 
been  able  to  clear  up  this  point.  The  Register  now  is 
shown  to  no  one,  and  those  employed  at  the  Recorder's 
Office  are  dumb. 

Such  are  the  facts,  let  us  summarize  them.  If  this 
Court  so  called  "  High,"  had  been  of  a  character  to  con- 
ceive such  an  idea  as  that  of  doing  its  duty — when  it  had 
once  met  together  the  mere  organization  of  itself  was  a 
matter  of  a  few  minutes — it  would  have  proceeded  reso- 
lutely and  rapidly,  it  would  have  appointed  as  Procureur- 
Oeneral  some  energetic  man  belonging  to  the  Court  of 
Cassation,  either  from  the  body  of  magistrates,  such  as 
Freslon,  or  from  the  bar,  like  Martin  (of  Strasbourg).  By 
virtue  of  Article  08,  and  without  waiting  the  initiative  of 
the  Assembly,  it  would  have  drawn  up  a  judgment  stig- 
matizing the  crime,  it  would  have  launched  an  order  of 
arrest  against  the  President  and  his  accomplices  and  have 
ordered  the  removal  of  the  person  of  Louis  Bonaparte  to 
jail.  As  for  the  Procureur-General.  he  would  have  issued 
a  warrant  of  arrest.  All  this  could  have  been  done  by 
half-past  eleven,  and  at  that  time  no  attempt  had  been 
made  to  dissolve  the   High  Court.    These  preliminary 


72  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

proceedings  concluded,  the  High  Court,  by  going  out 
through  a  nailed-up  door  leading  into  the  Salle  des  Pas  Per- 
dus,  could  have  descended  into  the  street,  and  there  have 
proclaimed  its  judgment  to  the  people.  At  this  time  it 
would  have  met  with  no  hindrance.  Finally,  and  this  in 
any  case,  it  should  have  sat  robed  on  the  Judges'  Bench, 
with  all  magisterial  state,  and  when  the  police  agent  and 
his  soldiers  appeared  should  have  ordered  the  soldiers,  who 
perhaps  would  have  obeyed  them,  to  arrest  the  agent,  and 
if  the  soldiers  had  disobeyed,  should  have  allowed  them- 
selves to  be  formally  dragged  to  prison,  so  that  the  peo- 
ple could  see,  under  their  own  eyes,  out  in  the  open  street, 
the  filthy  hoof  of  the  coup  cVetat  trampling  upon  the  robe 
of  Justice. 

Instead  of  this,  what  steps  did  the  High  Court  take  ? 
We  have  just  seen. 

"  Be  off  with  you !  " 

"  We  are  going." 

We  can  imagine,  after  a  very  different  fashion,  the  dia- 
logue between  Mathieu  Mole  and  Vidocq. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    MAIEIE  OF  THE    TENTH    AREONDISSEMENT. 

The  Representatives,  having  come  out  from  M.  Daru, 
rejoined  each  other  and  assembled  in  the  street.  There 
they  consulted  briefly,  from  group  to  group.  There  were 
a  large  number  of  them.  In  less  than  an  hour,  by  send- 
ing notices  to  the  houses  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine 
alone,  on  account  of  the  extreme  urgency,  more  than  three 
hundred  members  could  be  called  together.  But  where 
should  they  meet?  At  Lemardelay's  ?  The  Rue  Rich- 
elieu was  guarded.  At  the  Salle  Martel  ?  It  was  a  long 
way  off.  They  relied  upon  the  Tenth  Legion,  of  which 
General  Lauriston  was  colonel.  They  showed  a  preference 
for  the  Mairie  of  the  Tenth  Arrondissement.  Besides, 
the  distance  was  short,  and  there  was  no  need  to  cross 
any  bridges. 

They  formed  themselves  into  column,  and  set  forth. 

M.  Daru,  as  we  have  said,  lived  in  the  Rue  de  Lille, 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  73 

close  by  the  Assembly.  The  section  of  the  Rue  de  Lille 
lying  between  his  house  and  the  Palais  Bourbon  was  oc- 
cupied by  infantry.  The  last  detachment  barred  his  door, 
but  it  only  barred  it  on  the  right,  not  on  the  left.  The 
Representatives,  on  quitting  M.  Darn,  bent  their  steps 
on  the  side  of  the  Rue  des  Saints-Peres,  and  left  the  sol- 
diers behind  them.  At  that  moment  the  soldiers  had  only 
been  instructed  to  prevent  their  meeting  in  the  Palace  of 
the  Assembly ;  they  could  quietly  form  themselves  into  a 
column  in  the  street,  and  set  forth.  If  they  had  turned 
to  the  right  instead  of  to  the  left,  they  would  have  been 
opposed.  But  there  were  no  orders  for  the  other  alter- 
native ;  they  passed  through  a  gap  in  the  instructions. 

An  hour  afterwards  this  threw  St.  Arnaud  into  a  fit  of 
fury. 

On  their  way  fresh  Representatives  came  up  and  swelled 
the  column.  As  the  members  of  the  Right  lived  for 
the  most  part  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  the  column 
was  composed  almost  entirely  of  men  belonging  to  the 
majority. 

At  the  corner  of  the  Quai  d'Orsay  they  met  a  group  of 
members  of  the  Left,  who  had  reunited  after  their  exit 
from  the  Palace  of  the  Assembly,  and  who  were  consult- 
ing together.  There  were  the  Representatives  Esquiros, 
Marc  I)uf raisse,  Victor  Hennequin,  Colfavru,  and  Chamiot. 

Those  who  were  marching  at  the  head  of  the  column 
left  their  places,  went  up  to  the  group,  and  said,  "  Come 
with  us." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Marc  Dufraisse. 

"  To  the  Mairie  of  the  Tenth  Arrondisseinent." 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do  there?" 

"  To  decree  the  deposition  of  Louis  Bonaparte." 

"  And  afterwards  ? " 

"  Afterwards  we  shall  go  in  a  body  to  the  Palace  of  the 
Assembly  ;  we  will  force  our  way  in  spite  of  all  resistance, 
and  from  the  top  of  the  steps  we  will  read  out  the  decree 
of  deposition  to  the  soldiers." 

"Very  good,  we  will  join  you,"  said  Marc  Dufraisse. 

The  five  members  of  the  Left  marched  at  some  distance 
from  the  column.  Several  of  their  friends  who  were 
mingled  with  the  members  of  the  Right  rejoined  them; 
and  we  may  here  mention  a  fact  without  giving  it  more 
importance  than  it  possesses,  namely,  that  the  two  frac- 


74  THE  IIIS TORT  OF  A  CRIME. 

tions  of  the  Assembly  represented  in  this  unpremeditated 
gathering  marched  towards  the  Mairie  without  being 
mingled  together ;  one  on  each  side  of  the  street.  It 
chanced  that  the  men  of  the  majority  kept  on  the  right 
side  of  the  street,  and  the  men  of  the  minority  on  the 
left. 

No  one  had  a  scarf  of  office.  No  outward  token  caused 
them  to  be  recognized.  The  passers-by  stared  at  them 
with  surprise,  and  did  not  understand  what  was  the 
meaning  of  this  procession  of  silent  men  through  the 
solitary  streets  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain.  One  district 
of  Paris  was  as  yet  unaware  of  the  coup  d'etat. 

Strategically  speaking,  from  a  defensive  point  of  view, 
the  Mairie  of  the  Tenth  Arrondissement  was  badly  chosen. 
Situated  in  a  narrow  street  in  that  short  section  of  the  Rue 
de  Grenelle-St.-Germain  which  lies  between  the  Rue  des 
Saints-Peres  and  the  Rue  du  Sepulcre,  close  by  the  cross- 
roads of  the  Croix-Rouge,  where  the  troops  could  arrive 
from  so  many  different  points,  the  Mairie  of  the  Tenth 
Arrondissement,  confined,  commanded,  and  blockaded  on 
every  side,  was  a  pitiful  citadel  for  the  assailed  National 
Representation.  It  is  true  that  they  no  longer  had  the 
choice  of  a  citadel,  any  more  than  later  on  they  had  the 
choice  of  a  general. 

Their  arrival  at  the  Mairie  might  have  seemed  a  good 
omen.  The  great  gate  which  leads  into  a  square  courtyard 
was  shut ;  it  opened.  The  post  of  the  National  Guards, 
composed  of  some  twenty  men,  took  up  their  arms  and 
rendered  military  honors  to  the  Assembly.  The  Repre- 
sentatives entered,  a  Deputy  Mayor  received  them  with 
respect  on  the  threshold  of  the  Mairie. 

"  The  Palace  of  the  Assembly  is  closed  by  the  troops," 
said  the  Representatives,  "  we  have  come  to  deliberate 
here."  The  Deputy  Mayor  led  them  to  the  first  story, 
and  admitted  them  to  the  Great  Municipal  Hall.  The 
National  Guard  cried, "  Long  live  the  National  Assembly  !  " 

The  Representatives  having  entered,  the  door  was  shut. 
A  crowd  began  to  gather  in  the  street  and  shouted  "Long 
live  the  Assembly !  "  A  certain  number  of  strangers  to 
the  Assembly  entered  the  Mairie  at  the  same  time  as  the 
Representatives.  Overcrowding  was  feared,  and  two 
sentries  were  placed  at  a  little  side-door,  which  was  left 
open,  with  orders  only  to  allow  members  of  the  Assembly 


THE  HI STORY  OF  A  CRIME.  75 

who  might  come  afterwards  to  enter.  M.  Howyn  Tran- 
chere  stationed  himself  at  this  door,  and  undertook  to 
identify  them. 

On  their  arrival  at  the  Mairie,  the  Representatives 
numbered  somewhat  under  three  hundred.  They  exceeded 
this  number  later  on.  It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  All  did  not  go  up  at  once  into  the  Hall  where 
the  meeting  was  to  take  place.  Several,  those  of  the  Left 
in  particular,  remained  in  the  courtyard,  mingling  with 
the  National  Guards  and  citizens. 

They  talked  of  what  they  were  going  to  do. 

This  was  the  first  difficulty. 

The  Father  of  the  meeting  was  M.  de  Keratry. 

Was  he  going  to  preside  ? 

The  Representatives  who  were  assembled  in  the  Great 
Hall  were  in  his  favor. 

The  Representatives  remaining  in  the  courtyard  hesi- 
.tated. 

Marc  Dufraisse  went  up  to  MM.  Jules  de  Lasteyrie  and 
Leon  de  Maleville,  who  had  stayed  behind  with  the  Rep- 
resentatives of  the  Left,  and  said  to  them,  "What  are 
they  thinking  of  upstairs  ?  To  make  Keratry  President  ? 
The  name  of  Keratry  would  frighten  the  people  as 
thoroughly  as  mine  would  frighten  the  middle  classes." 

A  member  of  the  Right,  M.  de  Keranflech,  came  up,  and 
intending  to  support  the  objection,  added,  "  And  then, 
think  of  Keratry's  age.  It  is  madness  to  pit  a  man  of 
eighty  against  this  hour  of  danger." 

But  Esquiros  exclaimed, — 

"  That  is  a  bad  reason  !  Eighty  years  !  They  consti- 
tute a  force." 

"  Yes ;  where  they  are  well  borne,"  said  Colfavru. 
"Keratry  bears  them  badly." 

"  Nothing  is  greater,"  resumed  Esquiros,  "  than  great 
octogenarians." 

"it  is  glorious,"  added  Chamiot,  "to  be  presided  over 
by  Nestor." 

"No,  by  Gerontes,"  *  said  Victor  Ilennequin. 

These  words  put  an  end  to  the  debate.  Keratry  was 
thrown   out.     MM.   Leon    de   Maleville    and    Jules     de 

*  The  Gerontes,  or  Gerontia,  were  the  Elders  of  Sparta,  who  con- 
stituted  the  Senate. 


76  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Lasteyrie,  two  men  respected  by  all  parties,  undertook  to 
make  the  members  of  the  Right  listen  to  reason.  It  was 
decided  that  the  "  bureau  "  *  should  preside.  Five  mem- 
bers of  the  "bureau"  were  present;  two  Vice-Presidents, 
MM.  Benoist  d'Azy  and  Vitet,  and  three  Secretaries, 
MM.  Grimault,  Chapot,  and  Moulin.  Of  the  two  other 
Vice-Presidents,  one,  General  Bedeau,  was  at  Mazas; 
the  other,  M.  Daru,  was  under  guard  in  his  own  house. 
Of  the  three  other  Secretaries,  two,  MM.  Peupin  and 
Lacaze,  men  of  the  Elysee,  were  absentees ;  the  other,  M. 
Yvan,  a  member  of  the  Left,  was  at  the  meeting  of  the 
Left,  in  the  Rue  Blanche,  which  was  taking  place  almost 
at  the  same  moment. 

In  the  meantime  an  usher  appeared  on  the  steps  of  the 
Mairie,  and  cried  out,  as  on  the  most  peaceful  days  of  the 
Assembly,  "  Representatives,  to  the  sitting  !  " 

This  usher,  who  belonged  to  the  Assembly,  and  who 
had  followed  it,  shared  its  fortunes  throughout  this  day, 
the  sequestration  on  the  Quai  d'Orsay  included. 

At  the  summons  of  the  usher  all  the  Representatives 
in  the  courtyard,  and  amongst  whom  was  one  of  the  Vice- 
Presidents,  M.  Vitet,  went  upstairs  to  the  Hall,  and  the 
sitting  was  opened. 

This  sitting  was  the  last  which  the  Assembly  held  un- 
der regular  conditions.  The  Left,  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  had  on  its  side  boldly  recaptured  the  Legislative 
power,  and  had  added  to  it  that  which  circumstances  re- 
quired— as  was  the  duty  of  Revolutionists ;  the  Left, 
without  a  "bureau,"  without  an  usher,  and  without 
secretaries,  held  sittings  in  which  the  accurate  and  pas- 
sionless record  of  shorthand  was  wanting,  but  which  live 
in  our  memories  and  which  History  will  gather  up. 

Two  shorthand  writers  of  the  Assembly,  MM.  Gros- 
selet  and  Lagache,  were  present  at  the  sitting  at  the 
Mairie  of  the  Tenth  Arrondissement.  They  have  been 
able  to  record  it.     The  censorship  of  the  victorious  coup 

*The  "bureau  "  of  the  Assembly  consists  of  the  President,  for  the 
time  being  of  the  Assembly,  assisted  by  six  secretaries,  whose  duties 
mainly  lie.  in  deciding  in  what  sense  the  Deputies  have  voted.  The 
"bureau"  of  the  Assembly  should  not  be  confounded  with  the  fifteen 
"  bureaux"  of  the  Deputies,  which  answer  to  our  Select  Committees 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  are  presided  over  by  self-chosen 
Presidents. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  77 

d'etat  has  mutilated  their  report  and  has  published  through 
its  historians  this  mangled  version  as  the  true  version. 
One  lie  more.  That  does  not  matter.  This  shorthand 
recital  belongs  to  the  brief  of  the  2d  December,  it  is  one 
of  the  leading  documents  in  the  trial  which  the  future 
will  institute.  In  the  notes  of  this  book  will  be  found 
this  document  complete.  The  passages  in  inverted  com- 
mas are  those  which  the  censorship  of  M.  Bonaparte  has 
suppressed.  This  suppression  is  a  proof  of  their  sig- 
nificance and  importance. 

Shorthand  reproduces  everything  except  life.  Stenog- 
raphy is  an  ear.  It  hears  and  sees  not.  It  is  therefore 
necessary  to  fill  in  here  the  inevitable  blanks  of  the  short- 
hand account. 

In  order  to  obtain  a  complete  idea  of  this  sitting  of  the 
Tenth  Arrondissement,  we  must  picture  the  great  Hall 
of  the  Mairie,  a  sort  of  parallelogram,  lighted  on  the  right 
by  four  or  five  windows  overlooking  the  courtyard ;  on 
the  left,  along  the  wall,  furnished  with  several  rows  of 
benches  which  had  been  hastily  brought  thither,  on  which 
were  piled  up  the  three  hundred  Representatives,  as- 
sembled together  by  chance.  No  one  was  sitting  down, 
those  in  front  were  standing,  those  behind  were  mounted 
on  the  benches.  Here  and  there  were  a  few  small  tables. 
In  the  centre  people  walked  to  and  fro.  At  the  bottom, 
at  the  end  opposite  the  door,  was  a  long  table  furnished 
with  benches,  which  occupied  the  whole  width  of  the  wall, 
and  behind  which  sat  the  "  bureau."  "  Sitting  "  is  merely 
the  conventional  term.  The  "bureau"  did  not  "sit;" 
like  the  rest  of  the  Assembly  it  was  on  its  feet.  The  secre- 
taries, MM.  Chapot,  Moulin,  and  Grimault  wrote  stand- 
ing. At  certain  moments  the  two  Vice-Presidents  mounted 
on  the  benches  so  as  to  be  better  seen  from  all  points  of 
the  room.  The  table  was  covered  by  an  old  green  table- 
cloth, stained  with  ink,  three  or  four  inkstands  had  been 
brought  in,  and  a  quire  of  paper  was  scattered  about. 
There  the  decrees  were  written  as  soon  as  they  were  drawn 
up.  They  multiplied  the  copies,  some  Representatives 
became  secretaries  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  and  helped 
the  official  secretaries. 

This  great  hall  was  on  a  level  with  the  landing.  It 
was  situated,  as  we  have  said,  on  the  first  floor ;  it  was 
reached  by  a  very  narrow  staircase. 


78  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

We  must  recollect  that  nearly  the  whole  of  the  members 
present  were  members  of  the  Right. 

The  first  moment  was  a  serious  one.  Berryer  came  out 
to  advantage.  Berryer,  like  all  those  extemporizers  with- 
out style,  will  only  be  remembered  as  a  name,  and  a  much 
disputed  name,  Berryer  having  been  rather  a  special 
pleader  than  an  orator  who  believed  what  he  said.  On 
that  day  Berryer  was  to  the  point,  logical  and  earnest. 
They  began  by  this  cry,  "  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  "  Draw 
up  a  declaration,"  said  M.  de  Falloux.  "A  protest," 
said  M.  de  Flavigny.     "  A  decree,"  said  Berryer. 

In  truth  a  declaration  was  empty  air,  a  protest  was 
noise,  a  decree  was  action.  They  cried  out,  "What 
decree  ?  "  "  Deposition,"  said  Berryer.  Deposition  was 
the  extreme  limit  of  the  energy  of  the  Right.  Beyond 
deposition,  there  was  outlawry ;  deposition  was  practi- 
cable for  the  Right,  outlawry  was  only  possible  for  the 
Left.  In  fact  it  was  the  Left  who  outlawed  Louis  Bona- 
parte. They  did  it  at  their  first  meeting  in  the  Rue 
Blanche.  We  shall  see  this  later  on.  At  deposition, 
Legality  came  to  an  end ;  at  outlawry,  the  Revolution 
began.  The  recurrence  of  Revolutions  are  the  logical  con- 
sequences of  coups  d'etat.  The  deposition  having  been 
voted,  a  man  who  later  on  turned  traitor,  Quentin  Bau- 
chart,  exclaimed,  "  Let  us  all  sign  it."  All  signed  it. 
Odilon  Barrot  came  in  and  signed  it.  Antony  Thouret 
came  in  and  signed  it.  Suddenly  M.  Piscatory  an- 
nounced that  the  Mayor  was  refusing  to  allow  Represent- 
atives who  had  arrived  to  enter  the  Hall.  "  Order  him 
to  do  so  by  decree,"  said  Berryer.  And  the  decree  was 
voted.  Thanks  to  this  decree,  MM.  Favreau  and  Monet 
entered ;  they  came  from  the  Legislative  Palace ;  they 
related  the  cowardice  of  Dupin.  M.  Dahirel,  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  Right,  was  exasperated,  and  said,  "  We 
have  received  bayonet  thrusts."  Voices  were  raised, 
"Let  us  summon  the  Tenth  Legion.  Let  the  call  to  arms 
be  beaten.  Lauriston  hesitates.  Let  us  order  him  to 
protect  the  Assembly."  "  Let  us  order  him  by  decree," 
said  Berryer.  This  decree  was  drawn  up,  which,  how- 
ever, did  not  prevent  Lanriston  from  refusing.  Another 
decree,  again  proposed  by  Berryer,  pronounced  any  one 
who  had  outraged  the  Parliamentary  inviolability  to  be  a 
traitor,  and  ordered  the  immediate  release  of  those  Rep- 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  79 

resentatives  who  had  been  wrongfully  made  prisoners. 
All  this  was  voted  at  once  without  debate,  in  a  sort  of 
great  unanimous  confusion,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  storm 
of  fierce  conversations.  From  time  to  time  Berryer  im- 
posed silence.  Then  the  angry  outcries  broke  forth  again. 
"  The  coup  cVetat  will  not  dare  to  come  here."  "  We  are 
masters  here."  "  We  are  at  home."  "  It  would  be  im- 
possible to  attack  us  here."  "  These  wretches  will  not 
dare  to  do  so."  If  the  uproar  had  been  less  violent,  the 
Representatives  might  have  heard  through  the  open 
windows  close  at  hand,  the  sound  of  soldiers  loading 
their  guns. 

A  regiment  of  Chasseurs  of  Yincennes  had  just  entered 
silently  into  the  garden  of  the  Mairie,  and,  while  waiting 
for  orders,  were  loading  their  guns. 

Little  by  little  the  sitting,  at  first  disorderly  and  tu- 
multuous, had  assumed  an  ordinary  aspect.  The  uproar 
had  relapsed  into  a  murmur.  The  voice  of  the  usher, 
crying  "  Silence,  gentlemen,"  had  succeeded  in  overcom- 
ing the  hubbub.  Every  moment  fresh  Representatives 
came  in,  and  hastened  to  sign  the  decree  of  deposition  at 
the  "  bureau."  As  there  was  a  great  crowd  round  the 
"  bureau  "  waiting  to  sign,  a  dozen  loose  sheets  of  paper 
to  which  the  Representatives  affixed  their  signatures  were 
circulated  in  the  great  Hall  and  the  two  adjoining  rooms. 

The  first  to  sign  the  decree  of  deposition  was  M. 
Dufaure,  the  last  was  M.  Betting  de  Lancastel.  Of  the 
two  Presidents,  one,  M.  Benoist  d'Azy,  was  addressing 
the  Assembly ;  the  other,  M.  Yitet,  pale,  but  calm  and 
resolute,  distributed  instructions  and  orders.  M.  Benoist 
d'Azy  maintained  a  decorous  countenance,  but  a  certain 
hesitation  in  his  speech  revealed  an  inner  agitation. 
Divisions,  even  in  the  Right,  had  not  disappeared  at  this 
critical  moment.  A  Legitimist  member  was  overheard 
saying  in  a  low  voice,  while  speaking  of  one  of  the  Vice- 
Presidents,  "  This  great  Vitet  looks  like  a  whited  sepul- 
chre."    Yitet  was  an  Orleanist. 

Given  this  adventurer  with  whom  they  had  to  deal,  this 
Louis  Bonaparte,  capable  of  everything,  the  hour  and  the 
man  being  wrapt  in  mystery,  some  Legitimist  personages 
of  a  candid  mind  were  seriously  but  comically  frightened. 

The  Marquis  of ,  who  acted  the  fly  on  the  coach-wheel 

to  the  Right,  went  hither  and  thither,  harangued,  shouted, 


80  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

declaimed,     remonstrated,    proclaimed,    and     trembled. 

Another,  M.  A N ,  perspiring,  red-faced,  out  of 

breath,  rushed  about  distractedly.  "  Where  is  the  guard  ? 
How  many  men  are  there?  Who  commands  them  ?  The 
officer !  send  me  the  officer !  Long  live  the  Republic ! 
National  Guard,  stand  firm  !  Long  live  the  Republic !  " 
All  the  Right  shouted  this  cry.  "  You  wish  then  to  kill 
it,"  said  Esquiros.  Some  of  them  were  dejected  ;  Bour- 
bousson  maintained  the  silence  of  a  vanquished  placeman. 

Another,  the  Viscount  of ,  a  relative  of  the  Duke  of 

Escars,  was  so  alarmed  that  every  moment  he  adjourned 
to  a  corner  of  the  courtyard.  In  the  crowd  which  filled 
the  courtyard  there  was  a  gamin  of  Paris,  a  child  of 
Athens,  who  has  since  become  an  elegant  and  charming 
poet,  Albert  Glatigny.  Albert  Glatigny  cried  out  to  this 
frightened  Viscount,  "  Ilulloa  there  !  Do  you  think  that 
coups  d'etat  are  extinguished  in  the  way  Gulliver  put  out 
the  fire?" 

Oh,  Laughter,  how  gloomy  you  are  when  attended  with 
Tragedy ! 

The  Orleanists  were  quieter,  and  maintained  a  more  be- 
coming attitude.  This  arose  from  the  fact  that  they  ran 
greater  danger. 

Pascal  Duprat  replaced  at  the  top  of  the  decrees  the 
words,  "  Republique  Erancaise,"  which  had  been  for- 
gotten. 

From  time  to  time  men  who  were  not  speaking  on  the 
subject  of  the  moment  mentioned  this  strange  word, 
"  Dupin,"  upon  which  there  ensued  shouts  of  derision  and 
bursts  of  laughter.  "  Utter  the  name  of  that  coward  no 
more,"  cried  Antony  Thouret. 

There  were  motions  and  counter-motions ;  it  was  a  con- 
tinual uproar  interrupted  by  deep  and  solemn  silences. 
Alarmist  phrases  circulated  from  group  to  group.  "  We 
are  in  a  blind  alley."  "We  are  caught  here  as  in  a  rat 
trap ; "  and  then  on  each  motion  voices  were  raised : 
"  That  is  it !  "  »  Tt  is  right ! "  »  It  is  settled  !  "  They 
agreed  in  a  low  voice  upon  a  rendezvous  at  No.  19,  Rue 
de  la  Chaussee-d'Antin,  in  case  they  should  be  expelled 
from  the  Mairie.  M.  Bixio  carried  off  the  decree  of  depo- 
sition to  get  it  printed.  Esquiros,  Marc Duf raisse,  Pascal 
Duprat,  Rigal,  Llierbette,  Chamiot,  Latrade,  Colfavru, 
Antony  Thouret,  threw  in  here  and  there  energetic  words 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  81 

of  advice.  M.  Dufaure,  resolute  and  indignant,  protested 
with  authority.  M.  Odilon  Barrot,  motionless  in  a  corner, 
maintained  the  silence  of  stupefied  silliness. 

MM.  Passy  and  de  Tocqueville,  in  the  midst  of  the 
groups,  described  that  when  they  were  Ministers  they 
had  always  entertained  an  uneasy  suspicion  of  a  coup 
d'etat,  and  that  they  clearly  perceived  this  fixed  idea  in 
the  brain  of  Louis  Bonaparte.  M.  de  Tocqueville  added, 
"  I  said  to  myself  every  night,  '  I  lie  down  to  sleep  a 
Minister ;  what  if  I  should  awake  a  prisoner  ? ' " 

Some  of  those  men  who  were  termed  "  men  of  order," 
muttered  while  signing  the  degree  of  deposition,  "Beware 
of  the  Red  Republic  !  "  and  seemed  to  entertain  an  equal 
fear  of  failure  and  of  success.  M.  de  Vatimesnil  pressed 
the  hands  of  the  men  of  the  Left,  and  thanked  them  for 
their  presence.  "You  make  us  popular,"  said  he.  And 
Antony  Thouret  answered  him,  "  I  know  neither  Right 
nor  Left  to-day ;  I  only  see  the  Assembly." 

The  younger  of  the  two  shorthand  writers  handed  their 
written  sheets  to  the  Representatives  who  had  spoken, 
and  asked  them  to  revise  them  at  once,  saying,  "We 
shall  not  have  the  time  to  read  them  over."  Some  Rep- 
resentatives went  down  into  the  street,  and  showed  the 
people  copies  of  .the  decree  of  deposition,  signed  by  the 
members  of  the  "  bureau."  One  of  the  populace  took  one 
of  these  copies,  and  cried  out,  "  Citizens  !  the  ink  is  still 
quite  wet !     Long  live  the  Republic  !  " 

The  Deputy-Mayor  stood  at  the  door  of  the  Hall ;  the 
staircase  was  crowded  with  National  Guards  and  spec- 
tators. In  the  Assembly  several  had  penetrated  into  the 
Nail,  and  amongst  them  the  ex-Constituent  Beslay,  a 
man  of  uncommon  courage.  It  was  at  first  wished  to 
turn  them  out,  but  they  resisted,  crying,  "  This  is  our 
business.  You  are  the  Assembly,  but  we  are  the  People." 
"  They  are  right,"  said  M.  Berryer. 

M.  de  Falloux,  accompanied  by  M.  de  Keranflech,  came 
up  the  Constituent  Beslay,  and  leaned  by  his  side  on  the 
stove,  saying  to  him,  "  Good-day,  colleague ;  "  and  reminded 
him  that  they  both  had  formed  part  of  the  Committee 
ot  the  National  Workshops,  and  that  they  had  together 
visited  the  Workmen  ;it  the  Pare  Monceaux.  The  Right 
felt  themselves  falling;  they  became  affectionate  towards 
Republicans.     The  Republic  is  called  To-morrow, 


82  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Each  spoke  from  his  place  ;  this  member  upon  a  bench, 
that  member  on  a  chair,  a  few  on  the  tables.  All  con- 
tradictory opinions  burst  forth  at  once.  In  a  corner  some 
ex-leaders  of  "order"  were  scared  at  the  possible  triumph 
of  the  "  Reds."  In  another  the  men  of  the  Right  sur- 
rounded the  men  of  the  Left,  and  asked  them :  "  Are  not 
the  faubourgs  going  to  rise?" 

The  narrator  has  but  one  duty,  to  tell  his  story ;  he 
relates  everything,  the  bad  as  well  as  the  good.  What- 
ever may  have  taken  place,  however,  and  notwithstanding 
all  these  details  of  which  it  was  our  duty  to  speak,  apart 
from  the  exceptions  which  we  have  mentioned,  the  attitude 
of  the  men  of  the  Right  who  composed  the  large  majority 
of  this  meeting  was  in  many  respects  honorable  and 
worthy.  Some  of  them,  as  we  have  just  mentioned,  even 
prided  themselves  upon  their  resolution  and  their  energy, 
almost  as  though  they  had  wished  to  rival  the  members 
of  the  Left. 

We  may  here  remark — for  in  the  course  of  this  narra- 
tive Ave  shall  more  than  once  see  the  gaze  of  some  members 
of  the  Right  turned  towards  the  people,  and  in  this  no 
mistake  should  be  made — that  these  monarchical  men 
who  talked  of  popular  insurrection  and  who  invoked  the 
faubourgs  were  a  minority  in  the  majority, — an  impercept- 
ible minority.  Antony  Thouret  proposed  to  those  who 
were  leaders  there  to  go  in  a  body  through  the  working- 
class  neighborhoods  with  the  decree  of  deposition  in  their 
hands.  Brought  to  bay,  they  refused.  They  declared 
that  they  would  only  protect  themselves  by  organized 
powers,  not  by  the  people.  It  is  a  strange  thing  to  say, 
but  it  must  be  noted,  that  with  their  habits  of  political 
shortsightedness,  the  popular  armed  resistance,  even  in 
the  name  of  the  Law,  seemed  sedition  to  them.  The 
utmost  appearance  of  revolution  which  they  could  endure 
was  a  regiment  of  the  National  Guard,  with  their  drums 
at  their  head ;  they  shrank  from  the  barricade  ;  Right  in 
a  blouse  was  no  longer  Right,  Truth  armed  with  a  pike 
was  no  longer  Truth,  Law  unpaving  a  street  gave  them 
the  impression  of  a  Fury.  In  the  main,  however,  and 
taking  them  for  what  they  were,  and  considering  their 
position  as  politicians,  these  members  of  the  Right  were 
well-advised.  What  would  they  have  done  with  the 
people  ?     And  what  would  the  people  have  done  with 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  83 

them  ?  How  would  they  have  proceeded  to  set  fire  to  the 
masses?  Imagine  Falloux  as  a  tribune,  fanning  the 
Faubourg  St.  Antoine  into  a  flame ! 

Alas  !  in  the  midst  of  this  dense  gloom,  in  these  fatal 
complications  of  circumstances  by  which  the  coup  cVetat 
profited  so  odiously  and  so  perfidiously,  in  that  mighty 
misunderstanding  which  comprised  the  whole  situation, 
for  kindling  the  revolutionary  spark  in  the  heart  of  the 
people,  Danton  himself  would  not  have  sufficed. 

The  coup  cVetat  entered  into  this  meeting  impudently, 
with  its  convict's  cap  on  its  head.  It  possessed  an  in- 
famous assurance  there,  as  well  as  everywhere  else.  There 
were  in  this  majority  three  hundred  Representatives  of 
the  People.  Louis  Napoleon  sent  a  sergeant  to  drive 
them  away.  The  Assembly,  having  resisted  the  sergeant, 
he  sent  an  officer,  the  temporary  commander  of  the  sixth 
battalion  of  the  Chasseurs  de  Vincennes.  This  officer, 
young,  fair-haired,  a  scoffer,  half  laughing,  half  threaten- 
ing, pointed  with  his  finger  to  the  stairs  filled  with 
bayonets,  and  defied  the  Assembly.  "  Who  is  this  young 
spark?"  asked  a  member  of  the  Right.  A  National 
Guard  who  was  there  said,  "Throw  him  out  of  the 
window !  "  "  Kick  him  downstairs  !  "  cried  one  of  the 
people. 

This  Assembly,  grievous  as  were  its  offences  against 
the  principles  of  the  Revolution — and  with  these  wrongs 
Democracy  alone  had  the  right  to  reproach  it — this  As- 
sembly, I  repeat,  was  the  National  Assembly,  that  is  to 
say,  the  Republic  incarnate,  the  living  Universal  Suffrage, 
the  Majesty  of  the  Nation,  upright  and  visible.  Louis 
Bonaparte  assassinated  this  Assembly,  and  moreover  in- 
sulted it.  A  slap  on  the  face  is  worse  than  a  poniard 
thrust. 

The  gardens  of  the  neighborhood  occupied  by  the 
troops  were  full  of  broken  bottles.  They  had  plied  the 
soldiers  with  drink.  They  obeyed  the  "  epaulettes  "  un- 
conditionally, and  according  to  the  expression  of  eye- 
witnesses, appeared  "  dazed-drunk."  The  Representatives 
appealed  to  them,  and  said  to  them,  "  It  is  a  crime!" 
They  answered,  "  We  are  not  aware  of  it." 

One  soldier  was  heard  to  say  to  another,  "What  have 
you  done  with  your  ten  francs  of  this  morning?" 

The  sergeants  hustled  the  officers.     With  the  exception 


84  TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

of  the  commander,  who  probably  earned  his  cross  of 
honor,  the  officers  were  respectful,  the  sergeants  brutal. 

A  lieutenant  showing  signs  of  flinching,  a  sergeant  cried 
out  to  him,  "  You  are  not  the  only  one  who  commands 
here  !     Come,  therefore,  march  !  " 

M.  de  Vatimesnil  asked  a  soldier,  "  Will  you  dare  to 
arrest  us — us,  the  Representatives  of  the  People?  " 

"  Assuredly !  "  said  the  soldier. 

Several  soldiers  hearing  some  Representatives  say  that 
they  had  eaten  nothing  since  the  morning,  offered  them 
their  ration  bread.  Some  Representatives  accepted.  M. 
de  Tocqueville,  who  was  unwell,  and  who  was  noticed  to 
be  pale  and  leaning  on  the  sill  of  a  window,  received  from 
a  soldier  a  piece  of  this  bread,  which  he  shared  with  M. 
Chambolle. 

Two  Commissaries  of  Police  appeared  in  "  full  dress," 
in  black  coats  girded  with  their  sash-girdles  and  their 
black  corded  hats.  One  was  an  old  man,  the  other  a  young 
man.  The  first  was  named  Lemoine-Tacherat,  and  not 
Bacherel,  as  has  been  wrongly  printed :  the  second  was 
named  Barlet.  These  names  should  be  noted.  The 
unprecedented  assurance  of  this  Barlet  was  remarked. 
Nothing  was  wanting  in  him, — cynical  speech,  provoking 
gesture,  sardonic  intonation.  It  was  with  an  inexpress- 
ible air  of  insolence  that  Barlet,  when  summoning  the 
meeting  to  dissolve  itself,  added,  "  Rightly  or  Wrongly." 
They  murmured  on  the  benches  of  the  Assembly,  "  Who 
is  this  scoundrel?"  The  other,  compared  to  him,  seemed 
moderate  and  inoffensive.  Emile  Pean  exclaimed,  "  The 
old  man  is  simply  working  in  his  profession,  but  the 
young  man  is  working  out  his  promotion." 

Before  this  Tacherat  and  this  Barlet  entered,  before  the 
butts  of  the  muskets  had  been  heard  ringing  on  the  stones 
of  the  staircase,  this  Assembly  had  talked  of  resistance. 
Of  what  kind  of  resistance?  We  have  just  stated.  The 
majority  could  only  listen  to  a  regular  organized  resist- 
ance, a  military  resistance  in  uniform  and  in  epaulets. 
Such  a  resistance  was  easy  to  decree,  but  it  was  difficult 
to  organize.  "The  Generals  on  whom  the  Assembly  were 
accustomed  to  rely  having  been  arrested,  there  only  re- 
mained two  possible  Generals,  Oudinot  and  Lauriston. 
General  Marquis  de  Lauriston,  ex-peer  of  France,  and  at 
the  same  time  Colonel  of  the  Tenth  Legion  and  Represent- 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  85 

ative  of  the  People,  drew  a  distinction  between  his  duty 
as  Representative  and  his  duty  as  Colonel.  Summoned 
by  some  of  his  friends  of  the  Right  to  beat  to  arms 
and  call  together  the  Tenth  Legion,  he  answered,  "  As 
Representative  of  the  People  I  ought  to  indict  the  Ex- 
ecutive Power,  but  as  Colonel  I  ought  to  obey  it."  It  ap- 
pears that  he  obstinately  shut  himself  up  in  this  singular 
reasoning,  and  that  it  was  impossible  to  draw  him  out 
of  it. 

"  How  stupid  he  is !  "  said  Piscatory. 

"  How  sharp  he  is  !  "  said  Falloux. 

The  first  officer  of  the  National  Guard  who  appeared  in 
uniform,  seemed  to  be  recognized  by  two  members  of  the 
Right,  who  said,  "  It  is  M.  de  Peri  go  rd !  "  They  made  a 
mistake,  it  was  M.  Guilbot,  major  of  the  third  battalion 
of  the  Tenth  Legion.  He  declared  that  he  was  ready  to 
march  on  the  first  order  from  his  Colonel,  General  Lauris- 
ton.  General  Lauriston  went  down  into  the  courtyard, 
and  came  up  a  moment  afterwards,  saying,  "  They  do  not 
recognize  my  authority.  I  have  just  resigned,"  More- 
over, the  name  of  Lauriston  was  not  familiar  to  the  sol- 
diers. Oudinot  was  better  known  in  the  army.  But 
how? 

At  the  moment  when  the  name  of  Oudinot  was  pro- 
nounced, a  shudder  ran  through  this  meeting,  almost  ex- 
clusively composed  of  members  of  the  Right.  In  fact  at 
this  critical  time,  at  this  fatal  name  of  Oudinot,  reflections 
crowded  upon  each  other  in  every  mind. 

What  was  the  coup  d'etat? 

It  was  the  "  Roman  expedition  at  home."  Which  was 
undertaken  against  whom?  Against  those  who  had  un- 
dertaken the  "  Roman  expedition  abroad."  The  National 
Assembly  of  France,  dissolved  by  violence,  could  find  only 
one  single  General  to  defend  it  in  its  dying  hour.  And 
whom  ?  Precisely  he,  who  in  the  name  of  the  National  As- 
sembly of  France  had  dissolved  by  violence  the  National 
Assembly  of  Rome.  What  power  could  Oudinot,  the 
strangler  of  a  Republic,  possess  to  save  a  Republic  ?  Was 
it  not  evident  that  his  own  soldiers  would  answer  him, 
"  What  do  you  want  with  us  ?  That  which  we  have  done 
at  Rome  we  now  do  at  Paris."  What  a  story  is  this  story 
of  treason !  The  French  Legislature  had  written  the  first 
chapter  with  the  blood  of  the  Roman  Constituent  Assem- 


86  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

bly  :  Providence  wrote  the  second  chapter  with  the  blood 
of  the  French  Legislature,  Louis  Bonaparte  holding  the 
pen. 

In  1849,  Louis  Bonaparte  had  assassinated  the  sover- 
eignty of  the  People  in  the  person  of  its  Roman  Representa- 
tives ;  in  1851  he  assassinated  it  in  the  person  of  its  French 
Representatives.  It  was  logical,  and  although  it  was  in- 
famous, it  was  just.  The  Legislative  Assembly  bore  at 
the  same  time  the  weight  of  two  crimes  ;  it  was  the 
accomplice  of  the  first,  the  victim  of  the  second.  All  these 
men  of  the  majority  felt  this,  and  were  humbled.  Or 
rather  it  was  the  same  crime,  the  crime  of  the  Second  of 
July,  1849,  ever  erect,  ever  alive,  which  had  only  changed 
its  name,  which  now  called  itself  the  Second  of  December, 
and  which,  the  offspring  of  this  Assembly,  stabbed  it  to 
the  heart.  Nearly  all  crimes  are  parricidal.  On  a  certain 
day  they  recoil  upon  those  who  have  committed  them,  and 
slay  them. 

At  this  moment,  so  full  of  anxiety,  M.  de  Falloux  must 
have  glanced  round  for  M.  de  Montalembert.  M.  de  Mon- 
talembert  was  at  the  Elysee. 

When  Tamisier  rose  and  pronounced  this  terrifying 
word,  "  The  Roman  Question  ?  "  distracted  M.  de  Dam- 
pierre  shouted  to  him,  "  Silence !     You  kill  us  !  " 

It  was  not  Tamisier  who  was  killing  them — it  was 
Oudinot. 

M.  de  Dampierre  did  not  perceive  that  he  cried  "  Si- 
lence !  "  to  History. 

And  then  without  even  reckoning  the  fatal  remembrance 
which  at  such  a  moment  would  have  crushed  a  man  en- 
dowed in  the  highest  degree  with  great  military  qualities, 
General  Oudinot,  in  other  respects  an  excellent  officer,  and 
a  worthy  son  of  his  brave  father,  possessed  none  of  those 
striking  qualities  which  in  the  critical  hour  of  revolution 
stir  the  soldier  and  carry  with  them  the  people.  At  that 
instant  to  win  back  an  army  of  a  hundred  thousand  men, 
to  withdraw  the  balls  from  the  cannons'  mouths,  to  find 
beneath  the  wine  poured  out  to  the  Praetorians  the  true 
soul  of  the  French  soldier  half  drowned  and  nearly  dead,  to 
tear  the  flag  from  the  coup  d'etat  and  restore  it  to  the  Law, 
to  surround  the  Assembly  with  thunders  and  lightnings,  it 
would  have  needed  one  of  those  men  who  exist  no  longer; 
it  would  have  needed  the  firm  hand,  the  calm  oratory,  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  87 

cold  and  searching  glance  of  Desaix,  that  French  Phocion  ; 
it  would  have  needed  the  huge  shoulders,  the  command- 
ing stature,  the  thundering  voice,  the  ahusive,  insolent, 
cynical,  gay,  and  sublime  eloquence  of  Kleber,  that  mili- 
tary Mirabeau.  Desaix,  the  countenance  of  a  just  man,  or 
Kleber,  the  face  of  the  lion !  General  Oudinot,  little, 
awkward,  embarrassed,  with  an  indecisive  and  dull  gaze, 
red  cheeks,  low  forehead,  with  grizzled  and  lank  hair,  polite 
tone  of  voice,  a  humble  smile,  without  oratory,  without 
gesture,  without  power,  brave  before  the  enemy,  timid 
before  the  first  comer,  having  assuredly  the  bearing  of  a 
soldier,  but  having  also  the  bearing  of  a  priest ;  he  caused 
the  mind  to  hesitate  between  the  sword  and  the  taper  ; 
he  had  in  his  eyes  a  sort  of  "  Amen  !  " 

lie  had  the  best  intentions  in  the  world,  but  what  could 
he  do  ?  Alone,  without  prestige,  without  true  glory,  with- 
out personal  authority,  and  dragging  Home  after  him  ! 
He  felt  all  this  himself,  and  he  was  as  it  were  paralyzed 
by  it.  As  soon  as  they  had  appointed  him  he  got  upon  a 
chair  and  thanked  the  Assembly,  doubtless  with  a  firm 
heart,  but  with  hesitating  speech.  When  the  little  fair- 
haired  officer  dared  to  look  him  in  the  face  and  insult  him, 
he,  holding  the  sword  of  the  people,  he,  General  of  the 
sovereign  Assembly,  he  only  knew  how  to  stammer  out 
such  wretched  phrases  as  these,  "  I  have  just  declared  to 
you  that  we  are  unable, '  unless  compelled  and  constrained,' 
to  obey  the  order  which  prohibits  us  from  remaining  as- 
sembled together."  lie  spoke  of  obeying,  he  who  ought 
to  command.  They  had  girded  him  with  his  scarf,  and  it 
seemed  to  make  him  uncomfortable.  He  inclined  his  head 
alternately  first  to  one  shoulder  and  then  to  the  other  ;  he 
held  his  hat  and  cane  in  his  hand,  he  had  a  benevolent 
aspect.  A  Legitimist  member  muttered  in  a  low  voice  to 
his  neighbor,  "  One  might  imagine  he  was  a  bailiff  speech- 
ifying at  a  wedding."  And  his  neighbor,  a  Legitimist  also, 
replied,  "  He  reminds  me  of  the  Due  d'  Angouleme." 

What  a  contrast  to  Tamisier !  Tamisier,  frank,  earnest 
confident,  although  a  mere  Captain  of  Artillery,  had  the 
bearing  of  a  General.  Had  Tamisier,  with  his  grave  and 
gentle  countenance,  high  intelligence,  and  dauntless  heart, 
a  species  of  soldier-philosopher,  been  better  known,  he 
could  have  rendered  decisive  services.  No  one  can  tell 
what  would  have  happened  if  Providence  had  given  the 


88  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

soul  of  Tamisier  to  Oudinot,  or  the  epaulets  of  Oudinot 
to  Tamisier. 

In  this  bloody  enterprise  of  December  we  failed  to  find 
a  General's  uniform  becomingly  worn.  A  book  might  be 
written  on  the  part  which  gold  lace  plays  in  the  destiny 
of  nations. 

Tamisier,  appointed  Chief  of  the  Staff  some  instants 
.before  the  invasion  of  the  Hall,  placed  himself  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  Assembly.  He  was  standing  on  a  table.  He 
spoke  with  a  resonant  and  hearty  voice.  The  most  down- 
cast became  reassured  by  this  modest,  honest,  devoted 
attitude.  Suddenly  he  drew  himself  up,  and  looking  all 
that  Royalist  majority  in  the  face,  exclaimed,  "  Yes,  I 
accept  the  charge  you  offer  me.  I  accept  the  charge  of 
defending  the  Republic  !  Nothing  but  the  Republic ! 
Do  you  perfectly  understand?" 

A  unanimous  shout  answered  him.  "Long  live  the 
Republic !  " 

"  Ah !  "  said  Beslay,  "  the  voice  comes  back  to  you  as 
on  the  Fourth  of  May." 

"  Long  live  the  Republic !  Nothing  but  the  Republic !  " 
repeated  the  men  of  the  Right,  Oudinot  louder  than  the 
others.  All  arms  were  stretched  towards  Tamisier,  every 
hand  pressed  his.  Oh  Danger  !  irresistible  converter  ! 
In  his  last  hour  the  Atheist  invokes  God,  and  the  Royalist 
the  Republic.  They  cling  to  that  which  they  have  repu- 
diated. 

The  official  historians  of  the  coiq)  d'etat  have  stated 
that  at  the  beginning  of  the  sitting  two  Representatives 
had  been  sent  by  the  Assembly  to  the  Ministry  of  the 
Interior  to  "  negotiate."  What  is  certain  is  that  these 
two  Representatives  had  no  authority.  They  presented 
themselves,  not  on  behalf  of  the  Assembly,  but  in  their 
own  name.  They  offered  themselves  as  intermediaries  to 
procure  a  peaceable  termination  of  the  catastrophe  which 
had  begun.  With  an  honesty  which  bordered  on  sim- 
plicity they  summoned  Morny  to  yield  himself  a  prisoner, 
and  to  return  within  the  law,  declaring  that  in  case  of 
refusal  the  Assembly  would  do  its  duty,  and  call  the  peo- 
ple to  the  defence  of  the  Constitution  and  of  the  Republic. 
Morny  answered  them  with  a  smile,  accompanied  by  these 
plain  words,  "  If  you  appeal  to  arms,  and  if  I  find  any 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  89 

Representatives  on  the  barricades,  I  will  have  them  all 
shot  to  the  last  man." 

The  meeting  in  the  Tenth  Arrondissement  yielded  to 
force.  President  Vitet  insisted  that  they  should  forcibly 
arrest  him.  A  police  agent  who  seized  him  turned  pale 
and  trembled.  In  certain  circumstances,  to  lay  violent 
hands  upon  a  man  is  to  lay  them  upon  Right,  and  those 
who  dare  to  do  so  are  made  to,  tremble  by  outraged  Law. 

The  exodus  from  the  Mairie  was  long  and  beset  with 
obstructions.  Half-an-hour  elapsed  while  the  soldiers 
were  forming  a  line,  and  while  the  Commissaries  of  Police, 
all  the  time  appearing  solely  occupied  with  the  care  of 
driving  back  the  crowd  in  the  street,  sent  for  orders  to 
the  Ministry  of  the  Interior.  During  that  time  some  of 
the  Representatives,  seated  round  a  table  in  the  great 
Hall,  wrote  to  their  families,  to  their  wives,  to  their 
friends.  They  snatched  up  the  last  leaves  of  paper ;  the 
pens  failed ;  M.  de  Luynes  wrote  to  his  wife  a  letter  in 
pencil.  There  were  no  wafers ;  they  were  forced  to  send 
the  letters  unsealed  ;  some  soldiers  offered  to  post  them. 
M.  Chambolle's  son,  who  had  accompanied  his  father  thus 
far,  undertook  to  take  the  letters  addressed  to  Mesdames 
de  Luynes,  de  Lasteyrie,  and  Duvergier  de  Hauranne. 

General  Forey — the  same  who  had  refused  a  battalion 
to  the  President  of  the  Constituent  Assembly,  Marrast, 
who  had  promoted  him  from  a  colonel  to  a  general — 
General  Forey,  in  the  centre  of  the  courtyard  of  the 
Mairie,  his  face  inflamed,  half  drunk,  coining  out,  they 
said,  from  breakfast  at  the  Elysee,  superintended  the 
outrage.  A  member,  whose  name  we  regret  we  do  not 
know,  dipped  his  boot  into  the  gutter  and  wiped  it  along 
the  gold  stripe  of  the  regimental  trousers  of  General 
Forey.  Representative  Lherbette  came  up  to  General 
Forey,  and  said  to  him,  "General,  you  are  a  coward." 
Then  turning  to  his  colleagues,  he  exclaimed,  "Do  you 
hear?  I  tell  this  general  that  he  is  a  coward."  General 
Forey  did  not  stir.  He  kept  the  mud  on  his  uniform  and 
the  epithet  on  his  cheek. 

The  meeting  did  not  call  the  people  to  arms.  We  have 
just  explained  that  it  was  not  strong  enough  to  do  so; 
nevertheless,  at  the  last  moment,  a  member  of  the  Left, 
La  trade,  made  a  fresh  effort.  He  took  M.  Berryer  aside, 
and  said  to  him,  "  Our  official  measures  of  resistance  have 


90  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

come  to  an  end ;  let  us  not  allow  ourselves  now  to  be 
arrested.  Let  us  disperse  throughout  the  streets  crying, 
"  To  arms  !  "  M.  Berryer  consulted  a  few  seconds  on  the 
matter  with  the  Vice-President,  M.  Benoist  d'Azy,  who 
refused. 

The  Deputy  Mayor,  hat  in  hand,  reconducted  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Assembly  as  far  as  the  gate  of  the  Mairie.  As 
soon  as  they  appeared  in  the  courtyard  ready  to  go  out 
between  two  lines  of  soldiers,  the  post  of  National  Guards 
presented  arms,  and  shouted,  "Long  live  the  Assembly! 
Long  live  the  Representatives  of  the  People ! "  The 
National  Guards  were  at  once  disarmed,  almost  forcibly, 
by  the  Chasseurs  de  Vincennes. 

There  was  a  wine-shop  opposite  the  Mairie.  As  soon 
as  the  great  folding  gates  of  the  Mairie  opened,  and 
the  Assembly  appeared  in  the  street,  led  by  General  Forey 
on  horseback,  and  having  at  its  head  the  Vice-President 
Vitet,  grasped  by  the  necktie  by  a  police  agent,  a  few 
men  in  white  blouses,  gathered  at  the  windows  of  this 
wine-shop,  clapped  their  hands  and  shouted,  "  Well  done ! 
down  with  the  '  twenty-five  francs  ' !  "  * 

They  set  forth. 

The  Chasseurs  de  Vincennes,  who  marched  in  a  double 
line  on  each  side  of  the  prisoners,  cast  at  them  looks  of 
hatred.  General  Oudinot  said  in  a  whisper,  "  These  little 
infantry  soldiers  are  terrible  fellows.  At  the  seige  of 
Rome  they  flung  themselves  at  the  assault  like  madmen. 
These  lads  are  very  devils."  The  officers  avoided  the  gaze 
of  the  Representatives.  On  leaving  the  Mairie,  M.  de 
Coislin  passed  by  an  officer  and  exclaimed,  "  What  a  dis- 
grace for  the  uniform  !  "  the  officer  retaliated  with  angry 
words,  and  incensed  M.  de  Coislin.  Shortly  afterwards, 
during  the  march,  he  came  up  to  M.  de  Coislin  and  said 
to  him,  "  Sir,  I  have  reflected  ;  it  is  I  who  am  wrong." 

They  proceeded  on  the  way  slowly.  At  a  few  steps 
from  the  Mairie  the  procession  met  M.  Chegaray.  The  Rep- 
resentatives called  out  to  him,  "Come!"  He  answered, 
while  making  an  expressive  gesture  with  his  hands  and 
his  shoulders,  "  Oh !  I  dare  say !  As  they  have  not 
arrested  me"  .  .  .  and  he  feigned  as  though  he  would 

*An  allusion  to  the  twenty-five  francs  a  day  officially  payable  to  the 
members  of  the  Assembly. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  91 

pass  on.  He  was  ashamed,  however,  and  went  with  them. 
His  name  is  found  in  the  list  of  the  roll-call  at  the  bar- 
racks. 

A  little  further  on  M.  de  Lesperut  passed  them.  They 
cried  out  to  him.  "  Lesperut !  Lesperut  ! "  "I  am  with 
you,"  answered  he.  The  soldiers  pushed  him  back.  He 
seized  the  butt-ends  of  the  muskets,  and  forced  his  way 
into  the  column. 

In  one  of  the  streets  through  which  they  went  a  win- 
dow was  opened.  Suddenly  a  woman  appeared  with 
a  child ;  the  child,  recognizing  its  father  amongst  the 
prisoners,  held  out  its  arms  and  called  to  him,  the  mother 
wept  in  the  background. 

It  was  at  first  intended  to  take  the  Assembly  in  a 
body  straight  to  Mazas,  but  this  was  counter-ordered  by 
the  Ministry  of  the  Interior.  It  was  feared  that  this  long 
walk,  in  broad  daylight,  through  populous  and  easily 
aroused  streets,  might  prove  dangerous ;  the  D'Orsay 
barracks  were  close  at  hand.  They  selected  these  as  a 
temporary  prison. 

One  of  the  commanders  insolently  pointed  out  with  his 
sword  the  arrested  Representatives  to  the  passers-by, 
and  said  in  a  loud  voice,  "  These  are  the  Whites,  we 
have  orders  to  spare  them.  Now  it  is  the  turn  of  the  Red 
Representatives,  let  them  look  out  for  themselves  !  " 

Wherever  the  procession  passed,  the  populace  shouted 
from  the  pavements,  at  the  doors,  at  the  windows,  "  Long 
live  the  National  Assembly  !  "  When  they  perceived  a 
few  Representatives  of  the  Left  sprinkled  in  the  column 
they  cried,  "  Vive  la  Re'publique !  "  "  Vive  la  Constitu- 
tion !  "  and  "  Vive  la  Loi !  "  The  shops  were  not  shut,  and 
passers-by  went  to  and  fro.  Some  people  said,  "  Wait  until 
the  evening;  this  is  not  the  end  of  it." 

A  staff-officer  on  horseback,  in  full  uniform,  met  the 
procession,  recognized  M.  de  Vatimesnil,  and  came  up  to 
greet  him.  In  the  Rue  de  Beaune,  as  they  passed  the 
house  of  the  Democratic  Paciftque  a  group  shouted, 
"  Down  with  the  Traitor  of  the  Elysee  !  " 

On  the  Quai  d'Orsay,  the  shouting  was  redoubled. 
There  was  a  great  crowd  there.  On  either  side  of  the 
quay  a  file  of  soldiers  of  the  Line,  elbow  to  elbow,  kept 
back  the  spectators.  In  the  middle  of  the  space  left 
vacant,  the  members  of  the  Assembly  slowly  advanced 


92  TEE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 

between  a  double  file  of  soldiers,  the  one  stationary, 
which  threatened  the  people,  the  other  on  the  march, 
which  threatened  the  Representatives. 

Serious  reflections  arise  in  the  presence  of  all  the  de- 
tails of  the  great  crime  which  this  book  is  designed  to 
relate.  Every  honest  man  who  sets  himself  face  to  face 
with  the  coup  d'etat  of  Louis  Bonaparte  hears  nothing  but 
a  tumult  of  indignant  thoughts  in  his  conscience.  Who- 
ever reads  our  work  to  the  end  will  assuredly  not  credit 
us  with  the  intention  of  extenuating  this  monstrous  deed. 
Nevertheless,  as  the  deep  logic  of  actions  ought  always  to 
be  italicized  by  the  historian,  it  is  necessary  here  to  call 
to  mind  and  to  repeat,  even  to  satiety,  that  apart  from 
the  members  of  the  Left,  of  whom  a  very  small  number 
were  present,  and  whom  we  have  mentioned  by  name, 
the  three  hundred  Representatives  who  thus  defiled  before 
the  eyes  of  the  crowd,  constituted  the  old  Royalists  and 
reactionary  majority  of  the  Assembly.  If  it  were  pos- 
sible to  forget,  that — whatever  were  their  errors,  what- 
ever were  their  faults,  and,  we  venture  to  add,  whatever 
were  their  illusions — these  persons  thus  treated  were  the 
Representatives  of  the  leading  civilized  nation,  were 
sovereign  Legislators,  senators  of  the  people,  inviolable 
Deputies,  and  sacred  by  the  great  law  of  Democracy,  and 
that  in  the  same  manner  as  each  man  bears  in  himself 
something  of  the  mind  of  God,  so  each  of  these  nominees 
of  universal  suffrage  bore  something  of  the  soul  of  France ; 
if  it  were  possible  to  forget  this  for  a  moment,  it  assur- 
edly would  be  a  spectacle  perhaps  more  laughable  than 
sad,  and  certainly  more  philosophical  than  lamentable  to 
see,  on  this  December  morning,  after  so  many  laws  of  re- 
pression, after  so  many  exceptional  measures,  after  so 
many  votes  of  censure  and  of  the  state  of  siege,  after  so 
many  refusals  of  amnesty,  after  so  many  affronts  to  equity, 
to  justice,  to  the  human  conscience,  to  the  public  good 
faith,  to  right,  after  so  many  favors  to  the  police,  after  so 
many  smiles  bestowed  on  absolutism,  the  entire  Party  of 
Order  arrested  in  a  body  and  taken  to  prison  by  the  ser- 
gents  de  mile  ! 

One  day,  or  rather,  one  night,  the  moment  having  come 
to  save  society,  the  coup  d'etat  abruptly  seizes  the  Dema- 
gogues, and  finds  that  it  holds  by  the  collar,  Whom  ?  the 
Royalists. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  93 

They  arrived  at  the  barracks,  formerly  the  barracks  of 
the  Royal  Guard,  and  on  the  pediment  of  which  is  a 
carved  escutcheon,  whereon  are  still  visible  the  traces  of 
the  three  fleurs  de  lis  effaced  in  1830.  They  halted.  The 
door  was  opened.  "  Why  !  "  said  M.  de  Broglie,  "  here 
we  are." 

At  that  moment  a  great  placard  posted  on  the  barrack 
wall  by  the  side  of  the  door  bore  in  big  letters — 

"  REVISION  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION." 

It  was  the  advertisement  of  a  pamphlet,  published 
two  or  three  days  previous  to  the  coup  d'etat,  without 
any  author's  name,  demanding  the  Empire,  and  was  at- 
tributed to  the  President  of  the  Republic. 

The  Representatives  entered  and  the  doors  were  closed 
upon  them.  The  shouts  ceased  ;  the  crowd,  which  occa- 
sionally has  its  meditative  moments,  remained  for  some 
time  on  the  quay,  dumb,  motionless,  gazing  alternately  at 
the  closed  gate  of  the  Barracks,  and  at  the  silent  front  of 
the  Palace  of  the  Assembly,  dimly  visible  in  the  misty 
December  twilight,  two  hundred  paces  distant. 

The  two  Commissaries  of  Police  went  to  report  their 
"success"  toAI.de  Morny.  M.  de  Morny  said,  "  Xow 
the  struggle  has  begun.  Excellent !  These  are  the  last 
Representatives  who  will  be  made  prisoners." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

louis  bonaparte's  side-face. 

The  minds  of  all  these  men,  we  repeat,  were  very  dif- 
ferently affected. 

The  extreme  Legitimist  party,  which  represents  the 
White  of  the  flag,  was  not,  it  must  be  said,  highly  exas- 
perated at  the  coup  d'etat.  Upon  many  faces  might  be 
read  the  saying  of  M.  de  Falloux:  "I  am  so  satisfied  that 
I  have  considerable  difficulty  in  affecting  to  be  only  re- 
signed." The  ingenuous  spirits  cast  down  their  eyes — ■ 
that  is  becoming  to  purity;  more  daring  spirits  raised 
their  heads.     They  felt  an  impartial  indignation  which 


94  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

permitted  a  little  admiration.  How  cleverly  these 
generals  have  heen  ensnared !  The  Country  assassinated, 
— it  is  a  horrible  crime ;  hut  they  were  enraptured  at  the 
jugglery  blended  with  the  parricide.  One  of  the  leaders 
said,  with  a  sigh  of  envy  and  regret,  "  We  do  not  possess 
a  man  of  such  talent."  Another  muttered,  "  It  is  Order." 
And  he  added,  "  Alas !  "  Another  exclaimed,  "  It  is  a 
frightful  crime,  hut  well  carried  out."  Some  wavered, 
attracted  on  one  side  by  the  lawful  power  which  rested 
in  the  Assembly,  and  on  the  other  by  the  abomination 
which  was  in  Bonaparte ;  honest  souls  poised  between 
duty  and  infamy.  There  was  a  M.  Thomines  Desmazures 
who  went  as  far  as  the  door  of  the  Great  Hall  of  the 
Mairie,  halted,  looked  inside,  looked  outside,  and  did  not 
enter.  It  would  be  unjust  not  to  record  that  others 
amongst  the  pure  Royalists,  and  above  all  M.  de  Vati- 
mesnil,  had  the  sincere  intonation  and  the  upright  wrath 
of  justice. 

Be  it  as  it  may,  the  Legitimist  party,  taken  as  a  whole, 
entertained  no  horror  of  the  coup  d'etat.  It  feared  noth- 
ing. In  truth,  should  the  Royalists  fear  Louis  Bona- 
parte?   Why? 

Indifference  does  not  inspire  fear.  Louis  Bonaparte 
was  indifferent.  He  only  recognized  one  thing,  his  object. 
To  break  through  the  road  in  order  to  reach  it,  that  was 
quite  plain ;  the  rest  might  be  left  alone.  There  lay  the 
whole  of  his  policy,  to  crush  the  Republicans,  to  disdain 
the  Royalists. 

Louis  Bonaparte  had  no  passion.  He  who  writes  these 
lines,  talking  one  day  about  Louis  Bonaparte  with  the  ex- 
king  of  Westphalia,  remarked,  "In  him  the  Dutchman 
tones  down  the  Corsican." — "  If  there  be  any  Corsican," 
answered  Jerome. 

Louis  Bonaparte  has  never  been  other  than  a  man  who 
has  lain  wait  for  fortune,  a  spy  trying  to  dupe  God.  lie 
had  that  livid  dreaminess  of  the  gambler  who  cheats. 
Cheating  admits  audacity,  but  excludes  anger.  In  his 
prison  at  Ham  he  only  read  one  book,  "  The  Prince."  He 
belonged  to  no  family,  as  he  could  hesitate  between  Bona- 
parte and  Verhuell;  he  had  no  country,  as  he  could 
hesitate  between  France  and  Holland. 

This  Xapoleon  had  taken  St.  Helena  in  good  part.  He 
admired    England.      Resentment!     To    what    purpose? 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  95 

For  him  on  earth  there  only  existed  his  interests.  He 
pardoned,  because  he  speculated ;  he  forgot  everything, 
because  he  calculated  upon  everything.  What  did  his 
uncle  matter  to  him  ?  He  did  not  serve  him  ;  he  made 
use  of  him.  He  rested  his  shabby  enterprise  upon  Aus- 
terlitz.     He  stuffed  the  eagle. 

Malice  is  an  unproductive  outlay.  Louis  Bonaparte 
only  possessed  as  much  memory  as  is  useful.  Hudson 
Lowe  did  not  prevent  him  from  smiling  upon  Englishmen ; 
the  Marquis  of  Montchenu  did  not  prevent  him  from 
smiling  upon  the  Royalists. 

He  was  a  man  of  earnest  politics,  of  good  company, 
wrapped  in  his  own  scheming,  not  impulsive,  doing  noth- 
ing beyond  that  which  he  intended,  without  abruptness, 
without  hard  words,  discreet,  accurate,  learned,  talking 
smoothly  of  a  necessary  massacre,  a  slaughterer,  because 
it  served  his  purpose. 

All  this,  we  repeat,  without  passion,  and  without  anger. 

Louis  Bonaparte  was  one  of  those  men  who  had  been 
influenced  by  the  profound  iciness  of  Machiavelli. 

It  was  through  being  a  man  of  that  nature  that  he  suc- 
ceeded in  submerging  the  name  of  Napoleon  by  super- 
adding December  upon  Brumaire. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE    DOESAY    BARRACKS. 


It  was  half-past  three. 

The  arrested  Representatives  entered  into  the  court- 
yard of  the  barracks,  a  huge  parallelogram  closed  in  and 
commanded  by  high  walls.  These  walls  are  pierced  by 
three  tiers  of  windows,  and  possess  that  dismal  appear- 
ance which  distinguishes  barracks,  schools,  and  prisons. 

This  courtyard  is  entered  by  an  arched  portal  which 
extends  through  all  the  breadth  of  the  front  of  the  main 
building.  This  archway,  under  which  the  guard-house 
has  been  made,  is  close  on  the  side  of  the  quay  by  large 
solid  folding  doors,  and  on  one  side;  of  the  courtyard  by 
an  iron  grated  gateway.     They  closed  the  door  and  the 


96  .  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

grated  gateway  upon  the  Representatives.  They  "set 
them  at  liberty  "  in  the  bolted  and  guarded  courtyard. 

"  Let  them  stroll  about,"  said  an  officer. 

The  air  was  cold,  the  sky  was  gray.  Some  soldiers,  in 
their  shirt-sleeves  and  wearing  foraging  caps,  busy  with 
fatigue  duty,  went  hither  and  thither  amongst  the 
prisoners. 

First  M.  Grimault  and  then  M.  Antony  Thouret  insti- 
tuted a  roll-call.  The  Representatives  made  a  ring  around 
them.  Lherbette  said  laughingly,  "  This  just  suits  the 
barracks.  We  look  like  sergeant-majors  who  have  come 
to  report."  They  called  over  the  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
names  of  the  Representatives.  To  each  name  they  an- 
swered "  Absent  "  or  "Present,"  and  the  secretary  jotted 
down  with  a  pencil  those  who  were  present.  When  the 
name  of  Morny  was  reached,  some  one  cried  out,  "At 
Clichy !  "  At  the  name  of  Persigny,  the  same  voice  ex- 
claimed, "  At  Poissy  !  "  The  inventor  of  these  two  jokes, 
which  by  the  way  are  very  poor,  has  since  allied  himself 
to  the  Second  of  December,  to  Morny  and  Persigny ;  he 
has  covered  his  cowardice  with  the  embroidery  of  a 
senator. 

The  roll-call  verified  the  presence  of  two  hundred 
and  twenty  Representatives,  whose  names  were  as  fol- 
lows : — 

Le  Due  de  Luynes,  d'Andigne  de  la  Chasse,  Antony 
Thouret,  Arene,  Audren  de  Kerdrel  (Ille-et-Vilaine),  Au- 
dren  de  Kerdrel  (Morbihan),  de  Balzac,  Barchou  de  Pen- 
hoen,  Barillon,  ().  Barrot,  Barthelemy  Saint-Hilaire, 
Quentin  Bauchard,  G.  de  Beaumont,  Bechard,  Behaghel,  de 
Belevze,  Benoist-d'Azy,  de  Bernardy,  Berryer,  de  Berset, 
Basse,  Betting  de  Lancastel,  Blavoyer,  Bocher,  Boissic,  de 
Botmillan,  Bouvatier,  le  Due  de  Broglie,  de  la  Broise,  de 
Bryas,  Buffet,  Caillet  du  Tertre,  Callet,  Camus  de  la  Gui- 
bourgere,  Canet,  de  Castillon,  de  Cazalis,  Admiral  Cecile, 
Chambolle,  Chamiot,  Champannet,  diaper,  Chapot,  de 
Charencey,  Chasseigne,  Chauvin,  Chazant,  do  Chazelles, 
Chegaray,  Comte  de  Coislin,  Colfavru,  Colas  de  la  Motte, 
Coquerel,  de  Corcelles,  Cordier,  Corne,  Creton,  Daguilhon- 
Pujol,  Dahirel,  Vicomte  Dambray,  Marquis  de  Dampierre, 
de  Brotonne,  de  Fontaine,  de  Fontenay,  Vicomte  de  Scze, 
Desmars,  de  la  Devansaye,  Didier,  Dieuleveult,  Druet-Des- 
vaux,  A.     Dubois,  Dufaure,  Dufougerais,  Dufour,  Dufour- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  97 

nel,  Marc  Dufraisse,  P.  Duprat,  Duvergier  de  Hauranne, 
Etienne,  Vicomte  de  Falloux,  de  Faultrier,  Faure  (Rhone), 
Favreau,  Ferre,  des  Ferres,  Vicomte  de  Flavigny,  de 
Foblant,  Frichon,  Gain,  Gasselin,  Germoniere,  de  Gicquiau, 
de  Goulard,  de  Gouyon,  de  Grandville,  de  Grasset,  Grelier- 
Dufougerais,  Grevy,  Grillon,  Grimault,  Gros,  Guislier  de  la 
Tousche,  Ilarscouet  de  Saint-Georges,  Marquis  d'Havrin- 
court,  Hennequin,  d'Hespel,  Ilouel,  IIovyn-Tranchere, 
Huot,  3oret,  Jouannet,  de  Keranflech,  de  Keratry,  de  Keri- 
dec,  de  Kermazec,  de  Kersauron  Penendreff,  Leo  de  La- 
borde,  Laboulie,  Lacave,  Oscar  Lafayette,  Lafosse,  Lagarde, 
Lagrenee-  Laime,  Laine,  Comte  Lanjuinais,  Larabit,  de 
Larcy,  J.  de  Lasteyrie,  Latrade,  Laureau,  Laurenceau,  Gen- 
eral Marquis  de  Lauriston,  de  Laussat,  Lef ebvre  de  Grosriez, 
Legiand,  Legros-Desvaux,  Lemaire,  Emile  Leroux,  Les- 
perut,  de  l'Espinoy,  Lherbette,  de  Linsaval,  de  Luppe, 
Marechal,  Martin  de  Villers,  Maze-Saunay,  Meze,  Arnauld 
de  Melun,  Anatole  de  Melun,  Merentie,  Michaud,  Mispoulet, 
Monet,  Due  de  Montebello,  de  Montigny,  Moulin,  Murat-Sis- 
triere,  Alfred  Nettement,  d'Olivier,  General  Oudinot,  Due 
de  Keggio,  Paillat,  Duparc,  Passy,  Emile  Pean,  Pecoul, 
Casimir  Perier,  Pidoux,  Pigeon,  de  Pioge,  Piscatory,  Proa, 
Prudhomme,  Querhoent,  Randoing,  Raudot,  Raulin,  de 
Ravinel,  de  Remusat,  Renaud,  Rezal,Comte  de  Resseguier, 
Henri  de  Riancey,  Rigal,  de  la  Rochette,  Rodat,  de  Roque- 
feuille  des  Rotours  de  Chaulieu,  Rouget-Lafosse,  Rouille, 
Roux-Carbonel,  Saint-Beuve,  de  Saint-Germain,  General 
Comte  de  Saint-Priest,  Salmon  (Meuse),  Marquis  Sauvaire- 
Barthelemy,  de  Serre,  Comte  de  Sesmaisons,  Simonot,  de 
Staplande,  de  Surville,  Marquis  de  Talhouet,  Talon, 
Tamisier,  Thuriot  de  la  Rosiere,  de  Tinguy,  Comte  de 
Tocqueville,  de  la  Tourette,  Comte  de  Treveneuc,  Mor- 
timer-Ternaux,  de  Vatimesnil,  Baron  de  Vandoeuvre, 
Vernhette  (Ilerault),  Vernhette  (Aveyron),  Vezin,  Vitet, 
Comte  de  Vogue. 

After  this  list  of  names  may  be  read  as  follows  in  the 
shorthand  report : — 

"The  roll-call  having  been  completed,  General  Oudinot 
asked  the  Representatives  who  were  scattered  about  in 
the  courtyard  to  come  round  him,  and  made  the  following 
announcement  to  them, — - 

"'The  Captain- Adjutant- Major,  who  has  remained 
here  to  command  the  barracks,  has  iust  received  an  order 
7 


98  TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

to  have  rooms  prepared  for  us,  where  we  are  to  withdraw, 
as  we  are  considered  to  be  in  custody.  (Hear !  hear !) 
Do  you  wish  me  to  bring  the  Adjutant-Major  here !  (No, 
no ;  it  is  useless.)  I  will  tell  him  that  he  had  better  ex- 
ecute his  orders.'     (Yes,  yes,  that  is  right.)" 

The  Representatives  remained  "  penned  "  and  "  stroll- 
ing "  about  in  this  yard  for  two  long  hours.  They  walked 
about  arm  in  arm.  They  walked  quickly,  so  as  to  warm 
themselves.  The  men  of  the  Right  said  to  the  men  of  the 
Left,  "  Ah !  if  you  had  only  voted  the  proposals  of  the 
Questors  !  "  They  also  exclaimed  :  "  Well,  how  about 
the  invisible  sentry  /"  *  And  they  laughed.  Then  Marc 
Dufraisse  answered,  "  Deputies  of  the  People  !  deliberate 
in  peace!"  It  was  then  the  turn  of  the  Left  to  laugh. 
Nevertheless,  there  was  no  bitterness.  The  cordiality  of 
a  common  misfortune  reigned  amongst  them. 

They  questioned  his  ex-ministers  about  Louis  Bona- 
parte. They  asked  Admiral  Cecile,  "Now,  really,  what 
does  this  mean  ?  "  The  Admiral  answered  by  this  defi- 
nition :  "  It  is  a  small  matter."  M.  Vezin  added,  "  He 
wishes  History  to  call  him  '  Sire.'  "  "  Poor  Sire,  then," 
said  M.  de  Camus  de  la  Guibourgere.  M.  Odilon  Barrot 
exclaimed,  "  What  a  fatality,  that  we  should  have  been 
condemned  to  employ  this  man  !  " 

This  said,  these  heights  attained,  political  philosophy 
was  exhausted,  and  they  ceased  talking. 

On  the  right,  by  the  side  of  the  door,  there  was  a  can- 
teen elevated  a  few  steps  above  the  courtyard.  "  Let  us 
promote  this  canteen  to  the  dignity  of  a  refreshment 
room,"  said  the  ex-ambassador  to  China,  M.  de  Lagrenee. 
They  entered,  some  went  up  to  the  stove,  others  asked 
for  a  basin  of  soup.  MM.  Favreau,  Piscatory,  Larabit, 
and  Vatimesnil  took  refuge  in  a  corner.  In  the  opposite 
corner  drunken  soldiers  chatted  with  the  maids  of  the 
barracks.  M.  de  Keratry,  bent  with  his  eighty  years, 
was  seated  near  the  stove  on  an  old  worm-eaten  chair  ;  the 
chair  tottered ;  the  old  man  shivered. 

Towards  four  o'clock  a  regiment  of  Chasseurs  de  Vin- 
cennes  arrived  in  the  courtyard  with  their  platters,  and 
began  to  eat,  singing,  with  loud  bursts  of  merriment.     M. 

*  Michel  de  Bourges  had  thus  characterized  Louis  Bonaparte  as  the 
guardian  of  the  Kepublic  against  the  Monarchical  parties. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  99 

de  Broglie  looked  at  them  and  said  to  M.  Piscatory,  "  It 
is  a  strange  spectacle  to  see  the  porringers  of  the  Janis- 
saries vanished  from  Constantinople  reappearing  at 
Paris ! " 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  staff  officer  informed 
the  Representatives  on  behalf  of  General  Forey  that  the 
apartments  assigned  to  them  were  ready,  and  requested 
them  to  follow  him.  They  were  taken  into  the  eastern 
building,  which  is  the  wing  of  the  barracks  farthest  from 
the  Palace  of  the  Council  of  State  ;  they  were  conducted 
to  the  third  floor.  They  expected  chambers  and  beds. 
They  found  long  rooms,  vast  garrets  with  filthy  walls 
and  low  ceilings,  furnished  with  wooden  tables  and 
benches.  These  were  the  "  apartments."  These  garrets, 
which  adjoin  each  other,  all  open  on  the  same  corridor,  a 
narrow  passage,  which  runs  the  length  of  the  main  build- 
ing. In  one  of  these  rooms  they  saw,  thrown  into  a 
corner,  side-drums,  a  big  drum,  and  various  instruments 
of  military  music.  The  Representatives  scattered  them- 
selves about  in  these  rooms.  M.  de  Tocqueville,  who 
was  ill,  threw  his  overcoat  on  the  floor  in  the  recess  of  a 
window,  and  lay  down.  He  remained  thus  stretched 
upon  the  ground  for  several  hours. 

These  rooms  were  warmed  very  badly  by  cast-iron 
stoves,  shaped  like  hives.  A  Representative  wishing  to 
poke  the  fire,  upset  one,  and  nearly  set  fire  to  the  wooden 
flooring. 

The  last  of  these  rooms  looked  out  on  the  quay. 
Antony  Thouret  opened  a  window  and  leaned  out. 
Several  Representatives  joined  him.  The  soldiers  who 
were  bivouacking  below  on  the  pavement,  caught  sight  of 
them  and  began  to  shout,  "  Ah !  there  they  are,  those 
rascals  at 'twenty-five  francs  a  day,'  who  wish  to  cut 
down  our  pay  !  "  In  fact,  on  the  preceding  evening,  the 
police  had  spread  this  calumny  through  the  barracks  that 
a  proposition  had  been  placed  on  the  Tribune  to  lessen  the 
pay  of  the  troops.  They  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  name 
the  author  of  this  proposition.  Antony  Thouret  attempted 
to  undeceive  the  soldiers.  An  officer  cried  out  to  him, 
"  It  is  one  of  your  party  who  made  the  proposal.  It  is 
Lamennais ! " 

In  about  an  hour  and  a  half  there  were  ushered  into 
these   rooms   MM.  Vallette,  Bixio,  and  Victor  Lefranc, 


100  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

who  had  come  to  join  their  colleagues  and  constitute 
themselves  prisoners. 

Night  came.  They  were  hungry.  Several  had  not 
eaten  since  the  morning.  M.  Howynde  Tranchere,  a  man 
of  considerable  kindness  and  devotion,  who  had  acted  as 
porter  at  the  Mairie,  acted  as  forager  at  the  barracks. 
He  collected  five  francs  from  each  Representative,  and 
they  sent  and  ordered  a  dinner  for  two  hundred  and 
twenty  from  the  Cafe  d'Orsay,  at  the  corner  of  the  Quay, 
and  the  Rue  du  Bac.  They  dined  badly,  but  merrily. 
Cookshop  mutton,  bad  wine,  and  cheese.  There  was  no 
bread.  They  ate  as  they  best  could,  one  standing,  another 
on  a  chair,  one  at  a  table,  another  astride  on  his  bench, 
with  his  plate  before  him,  "  as  at  a  ball-room  supper,"  a 
dandy  of  the  Rightsaid  laughingly,  Thuriot  de  la  Rosiere, 
son  of  the  regicide  Thuriot.  M.  de  Remusat  buried  his 
head  in  his  hands.  Emile  Pean  said  to  him,  "  We  shall 
get  over  it."  And  Gustave  de  Beaumont  cried  out,  ad- 
dressing himself  to  the  Republicans,  "And  your  friends 
of  the  Left!  Will  they  preserve  their  honor?  Will 
there  be  an  insurrection  at  least  ? "  They  passed  each 
other  the  dishes  and  plates,  the  Right  showing  marked 
attention  to  the  Left.  "  Here  is  the  opportunity  to  bring 
about  a  fusion,*'  said  a  young  Legitimist.  Troopers  and 
canteen  men  waited  upon  them.  Two  or  three  tallow 
candles  burnt  and  smoked  on  each  table.  There  were  few 
glasses.  Right  and  Left  drank  from  the  same.  "  Equal  • 
ity,  fraternity,"  exclaimed  the  Marquis  Sauvaire-Bar- 
thelemy,  of  the  Right.  And  Victor  Hannequin  answered 
him,  "  But  not  Liberty." 

Colonel  Feray,  the  son-in-law  of  Marshal  Bugeaud,  was 
in  command  at  the  barracks ;  he  offered  the  use  of  his 
drawing-room  to  M.  de  Broglie  and  to  M.  Odilon  Barrot, 
who  accepted  it.  The  barrack  doors  were  opened  to  M.  de 
Keratry,  on  account  of  his  great  age,  to  M.  Dufaure,  as 
his  wife  had  just  been  confined,  and  to  M.  Etienne,  on 
account  of  the  wound  which  he  had  received  that  morning 
in  the  Rue  de  Bourgogne.  At  the  same  time  there  were 
added  to  the  two  hundred  and  twenty  M  M.  Eugene  Sue, 
Benoist  (du  Rhone),  Fayolle,  Chanay,  Toupet  des  Vignes, 
Radoubt-Lafosse,  Arbey,  and  Teillard-Laterisse,  who  up 
to  that  time  had  been  detained  in  the  new  Palace  of 
Foreign  Affairs. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  101 

Towards  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  dinner  was 
over,  the  restrictions  were  a  little  relaxed,  and  the  inter- 
mediate space  between  the  door  and  the  barred  gate  of  the 
barracks  began  to  be  littered  with  carpet  bags  and  articles 
of  toilet  sent  by  the  families  of  the  imprisoned  Represent- 
atives. 

The  Representatives  were  summoned  by  their  names. 
Each  went  down  in  turn,  and  briskly  remounted  with  his 
cloak,  his  coverlet,  or  his  foot- warmer.  A  few  ladies 
succeeded  in  making  their  way  to  their  husbands.  M. 
Chambolle  was  able  to  press  his  son's  hand  through  the 
bars. 

Suddenly  a  voice  called  out,  "  Oho  !  We  are  going  to 
spend  the  night  here."  Mattresses  were  brought  in,  which 
were  thrown  on  the  tables,  on  the  floor,  anywhere. 

Fifty  or  sixty  Representatives  found  resting-places  on 
them.  The  greater  number  remained  on  their  benches. 
Marc  Dufraisse  settled  himself  to  pass  the  night  on  a 
footstool,  leaning  on  a  table.  Happy  was  the  man  who 
had  a  chair. 

Nevertheless,  cordiality  and  gaiety  did  not  cease  to 
prevail.  "Make  room  for  the  ' Bui-graves  !'"  said  smil- 
ingly a  venerable  veteran  of  the  Right.  A  young  Repub- 
lican Representative  rose,  and  offered  him  his  mattress. 
They  pressed  on  each  offers  of  overcoats,  cloaks,  and 
coverlets. 

"  Reconciliation,"  said  Chamiot,  while  offering  the  half 
of  his  mattress  to  the  Due  de  Luynes.  The  Due  de 
Luynes,  who  had  80,000/.  a  year,  smiled,  and  replied  to 
Chamiot,  "You  are  St.  Martin,  and  I  am  the  beggar." 

M.  Paillet,  the  well-known  barrister,  who  belonged  to 
the  "  Third  Estate,"  used  to  say,  "  I  passed  the  night 
on  a  Bonapartist  straw  mattress,  wrapped  in  a  burnouse 
of  the  Mountain,  my  feet  in  a  Democratic  and  Socialist 
sheepskin,  and  my  head  in  a  Legitimist  cotton  nightcap." 

The  Representatives,  although  prisoners  in  the  bar- 
racks, could  stroll  about  freely.  They  were  allowed  to  go 
down  into  the  courtyard.  M.  Cordier  (of  Calvados)  came 
upstairs  again,  saying,  "I  have  just  spoken  to  the  soldiers. 
They  did  not  know  that  their  generals  had  been  arrested. 
They  appeared  surprised  and  discontented."  This  inci- 
dent raised  the  prisoners'  hopes. 

Representative  Michel  Renaud  of  the  Basses-Pyrenees, 


102  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

found  several  of  his  compatriots  of  the  Basque  country 
amongst  the  Chasseurs  de  Vincennes  who  occupied  the 
courtyard.  Some  had  voted  for  him,  and  reminded  him 
of  the  fact.  They  added,  "  Ah  !  We  would  again  vote 
for  the  '  Red '  list."  One  of  them,  quite  a  young  man, 
took  him  aside,  and  said  to  him.  "  Do  you  want  any 
money,  sir?    I  have  a  forty-sous  piece  in  my  pocket." 

Towards  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  a  great  hubbub  arose 
in  the  courtyard.  The  doors  and  the  barred  gate  turned 
noisily  upon  their  hinges.  Something  entered  which 
rumbled  like  thunder.  They  leaned  out  of  window,  and 
saw  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  a  sort  of  big,  oblong  chest, 
painted  black,  yellow,  red,  and  green,  on  four  wheels, 
drawn  by  post-horses,  and  surrounded  by  men  in  long 
overcoats,  and  with  fierce-looking  faces,  holding  torches. 
In  the  gloom,  and  with  the  help  of  imagination,  this  ve- 
hicle appeared  completely  black.  A  door  could  be  seen, 
but  no  other  opening.  It  resembled  a  great  coffin  on 
wheels.  "  What  is  that  ?  Is  it  a  hearse?  "  "  No,  it  is  a 
police- van."  "  And  those  people,  are  they  undertakers  ?  " 
"  No,  they  are  jailers."     "  And  for  whom  has  this  come  ?  " 

"  For  you,  gentlemen !  "  cried  out  a  voice. 

It  was  the  voice  of  an  officer ;  and  the  vehicle  which 
had  just  entered  was  in  truth  a  police-van. 

At  the  same  time  a  word  of  command  was  heard : 
"First  squadron  to  horse."  And  five  minutes  afterwards 
the  Lancers  who  were  to  escort  the  vehicle  formed  in  line 
in  the  courtyard. 

Then  arose  in  the  barracks  the  buzz  of  a  hive  of  angry 
bees.  The  Representatives  ran  up  and  down  the  stairs, 
and  went  to  look  at  the  police-van  close  at  hand.  Some 
of  them  touched  it,  and  could  not  believe  their  eyes.  M. 
Piscatory  met  M.  Chambolle,  and  cried  out  to  him,  "  I  am 
leaving  in  it ! "  M.  Berryer  met  Eugene  Sue,  and  they 
exchanged  these  words  :  "Where  are  you  going?"  "To 
Mount  Valerien.     And  you?"     " I  do  not  know." 

At  half-past  ten  the  roll-call  of  those  who  were  to  leave 
began.  Police  agents  stationed  themselves  at  a  table  be- 
tween two  candles  in  a  parlor  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
and  the  Representatives  were  summoned  two  by  two. 
The  Representatives  agreed  not  to  answer  to  their  names, 
and  to  reply  to  each  name  which  should  be  called  out, 
"  He  is  not  here."    But   those  "  Burgraves "    who  had 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  103 

accepted  the  hospitality  of  Colonel  Feray  considered  such 
petty  resistance  unworthy  of  them,  and  answered  to  the 
calling  out  of  their  names.  This  drew  the  others  after 
them.  Everybody  answered.  Amongst  the  Legitimists 
some  serio-comic  scenes  were  enacted.  They  who  alone 
were  not  threatened  insisted  on  believing  that  they  were 
in  danger.  They  would  not  let  one  of  their  orators  go. 
They  embraced  him,  and  held  him  back,  almost  with  tears, 
crying  out,  "  Do  not  go  away  !  Do  you  know  where  they 
are  taking  you  ?    Think  of  the  trenches  of  Vincennes! " 

The  Representatives,  having  been  summoned  two  by 
two,  as  we  have  just  said,  filed  in  the  parlor  before  the 
police  agents,  and  then  they  were  ordered  to  get  into  the 
"  robbers'  box."  The  stowage  was  apparently  made  at 
haphazard  and  promiscuously  ;  nevertheless,  later,  by  the 
difference  of  the  treatment  accorded  to  the  Representa- 
tives in  the  various  prisons,  it  was  apparent  that  this  pro- 
miscuous loading  had  perhaps  been  somewhat  prearranged. 
When  the  first  vehicle  was  full,  a  second,  of  a  similar 
construction  drew  up.  The  police  agents,  pencil  and 
pocket-book  in  hand,  noted  down  the  contents  of  each 
vehicle.  These  men  knew  the  Representatives.  When 
Marc  Dufraisse,  called  in  his  turn,  entered  the  parlor,  he 
was  accompanied  by  Benoist  (du  Rhone).  "  Ah !  here  is 
M.  Marc  Dufraisse,"  said  the  attendant  who  held  the  pen- 
cil. When  asked  for  his  name,  Benoist  replied  "  Benoist." 
"Du  Rhone,"  added  the  police  agent;  and  he  continued, 
"  for  there  are  also  Benoist  d'Azy  and  Benoist-Champy." 

The  loading  of  each  vehicle  occupied  nearly  half  an 
hour.  The  successive  arrivals  had  raised  the  number  of 
imprisoned  Representatives  to  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
two.  Their  embarkation,  or,  to  use  the  expression  of  M. 
de  Vatimesnil,  their  "barrelling  up,"  which  began  a  little 
after  ten  in  the  evening,  was  not  finished  until  nearly 
seven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  When  there  were  no 
more  police-vans  available  omnibuses  were  brought  in. 
These  various  vehicles  were  portioned  off  into  three  de- 
tachments, each  escorted  by  Lancers.  The  first  detach- 
ment left  towards  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  was 
driven  to  Mont  Valerien;  the  second  towards  five  o'clock, 
and  was  driven  to  Mazas;  the  third  towards  half-past  six, 
to  Vincennes. 

As  this  business  occupied  a  long  time,  those  who  had 


104  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

not  yet  been  called  benefited  by  the  mattresses  and  tried 
to  sleep.  Thus,  from  time  to  time,  silence  reigned  in  the 
upper  rooms.  In  the  -midst  of  one  of  these  pauses  M. 
Bixio  sat  upright,  and  raising  his  voice,  cried  out,  "  Gen- 
tlemen, what  do  you  think  of  '  passive  obedience '  ?"  An 
unanimous  burst  of  laughter  was  the  reply.  Again,  dur- 
ing one  of  these  pauses  another  voice  exclaimed, — 

"  Romieu  will  be  a  senator." 

Emile  Pean  asked, — 

"What  will  become  of  the  Red  Spectre?" 

"  He  will  enter  the  priesthood,"  answered  Antony 
Thouret,  "  and  will  turn  into  the  Black  Spectre." 

Other  exclamations  which  the  historians  of  the  Second 
of  December  have  spread  abroad  were  not  uttered. 
Thus,  Marc  Dufraisse  never  made  the  remark  with  which 
the  men  of  Louis  Bonaparte  have  wished  to  excuse  their 
crimes :  "  If  the  President  does  not  shoot  all  those 
among  us  who  resist,  he  does  not  understand  his  busi- 
ness." 

For  the  coup  cVetat  such  a  remark  might  be  convenient ; 
but  for  History  it  is  false. 

The  interior  of  the  police- vans  was  lighted  while  the 
Representatives  were  entering.  The  air-holes  of  each 
compartment  were  not  closed.  In  this  manner  Marc 
Dufraisse  through  the  aperture  could  see  M.  du  Renmsat 
in  the  opposite  cell  to  his  own.  M.  du  Remusat  had 
entered  the  van  coupled  with  M.  Duvergier  de  Ilauranne. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Monsieur  Marc  Dufraisse,"  exclaimed 
Duvergier  de  Hauranne  when  they  jostled  each  other  in 
the  gangway  of  the  vehicle,  "upon,  my  word,  if  any  one 
had  said  to  me,  '  You  will  go  to  Mazas  in  a  police-van,'  I 
should  have  said, 'It  is  improbable ;' but  if  they  had 
added,  '  You  will  go  with  Marc  Dufraisse,'  I  should  have 
have  said,  '  It  is  impossible  ! '  " 

As  soon  as  the  vehicle  was  full,  five  or  six  policemen 
entered  and  stood  in  the  gangway.  The  door  was  shut, 
the  steps  were  thrown  up,  and  they  drove  off. 

When  all  the  police-vans  had  been  filled,  there  were 
still  some  Representatives  left.  As  we  have  said,  omni- 
buses were  brought  into  requisition.  Into  these  Repre- 
sentatives were  thrust,  one  upon  the  other,  rudely,  with- 
out deference  for  either  age  or  name.  Colonel  Feray,  on 
horseback,  superintended  and  directed  operations.    As  he 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  105 

mounted  the  steps  of  the  last  vehicle  but  one,  the  Due  de 
Montebello  cried  out  to  him,  "  To-day  is  the  anniversary  of 
the  battle  of  Austerlitz,  and  the  son-in-law  of  Marshal 
Bugeaud  compels  the  son  of  Marshal  Lannes  to  enter  a 
convict's  van." 

When  the  last  omnibus  was  reached,  there  were  only 
seventeen  places  for  eighteen  Representatives.  The  most 
active  mounted  first.  Antony  Thouret,  who  himself  alone 
equalled  the  whole  of  the  Right,  for  he  had  as  much  mind 
as  Thiers  and  as  much  stomach  as  Murat;  Antony 
Thouret,  corpulent  and  lethargic,  was  the  last.  When  he 
appeared  on  the  threshold  of  the  omnibus  in  all  his  huge- 
ness, a  cry  of  alarm  arose  ; — Where  was  he  going  to  sit  ? 

Antony  Thouret,  noticing  Berryer  at  the  bottom  of  the 
omnibus,  went  straight  up  to  him,  sat  down  on  his  knees, 
and  quietly  said  to  him,  "You  wanted  'compression,' 
Monsieur  Berryer.    Now  you  have  it." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MAZAS. 

The  police- vans,  escorted  as  far  as  Mazas  by  Lancers, 
found  another  squadron  of  Lancers  ready  to  receive  them 
at  Mazas.  The  Representatives  descended  from  the 
vehicle  one  by  one.  The  officer  commanding  the  Lancers 
stood  by  the  door,  and  watched  them  pass  with  a  dull 
curiosity. 

Mazas,  which  had  taken  the  place  of  the  prison  of  La 
Force,  now  pulled  down,  is  a  lofty  reddish  building,  close 
to  the  terminus  of  the  Lyons  Railway,  and  stands  on  the 
waste  land  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine.  From  a  distance 
the  building  appears  as  though  built  of  bricks,  but  on 
closer  examination  it  is  seen  to  be  constructed  of  flints 
set  in  cement.  Six  large  detached  buildings,  three  stories 
high,  all  radiating  from  a  rotunda  which  serves  as  the 
common  centre,  and  touching  each  other  at  the  starting- 
point,  separated  by  courtyards  which  grow  broader  in 
proportion  as  the  buildings  spread  out,  pierced  with  a 
thousand  little  dormer  windows  which  give  light  to  the 
cells,  surrounded  by  a  high  wall,  and  presenting  from  a 


106  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

bird's-eye  point  of  view  the  shape  of  a  fan — such  is  Mazas. 
From  the  rotunda  which  forms  the  centre,  springs  a  sort 
of  minaret,  which  is  the  alarm-tower.  The  ground  floor 
is  a  round  room,  which  serves  as  the  registrar's  office. 
On  the  first  story  is  a  chapel  where  a  single  priest  says 
mass  for  all ;  and  the  observatory,  where  a  single  attend- 
ant keeps  watch  over  all  the  doors  of  all  the  galleries  at 
the  same  time.  Each  building  is  termed  a  "  division." 
The  courtyards  are  intersected  by  high  walls  into  a  multi- 
tude of  little  oblong  walks. 

As  each  Representative  descended  from  the  vehicle  he 
was  conducted  into  the  rotunda  where  the  registry  office 
was  situated.  There  his  name  was  taken  down,  and  in 
exchange  for  his  name  he  was  assigned  a  number. 
Whether  the  prisoner  be  a  thief  or  a  legislator,  such  is 
always  the  rule  in  this  prison  ;  the  coup  d'etat  reduced  all 
to  a  footing  of  equality.  As  soon  as  a  Representative  was 
registered  and  numbered,  he  was  ordered  to  "  file  off." 
They  said  to  him,  "  Go  upstairs,"  or  "  Go  on  ; "  and  they 
announced  him  at  the  end  of  the  corridor  to  which 
he  was  allotted  by  calling  out,  "  Receive  number  So-and- 
So."  The  jailer  in  that  particular  corridor  answered, 
"  Send  him  on."  The  prisoner  mounted  alone,  went 
straight  on,  and  on  his  arrival  found  the  jailer  standing 
near  an  open  door.  The  jailer  said,  "  Here  it  is,  sir." 
The  prisoner  entered,  the  jailer  shut  the  door,  and  they 
passed  on  to  another. 

The  coup  d'etat  acted  in  a  very  different  manner  towards 
the  various  Representatives.  Those  whom  it  desired  to 
conciliate,  the  men  of  the  Right,  were  placed  in  Vin- 
cennes  ;  those  whom  it  detested,  the  men  of  the  Left,  were 
placed  in  Mazas.  Those  at  Vincennes  had  the  quarters 
of  M.  Montpensier,  which  were  expressly  reopened  for 
them  ;  an  excellent  dinner,  eaten  in  company  ;  wax 
candles,  fire,  and  the  smiles  and  bows  of  the  governor, 
General  Courtigis. 

This  is  how  it  treated  those  at  Mazas. 

A  police-van  deposited  them  at  the  prison.  They  were 
transferred  from  one  box  to  another.  At  Mazas  a  clerk 
registered  them,  weighed  them,  measured  them,  and  en- 
tered them  into  the  jail-book  as  convicts.  Having  passed 
through  the  office,  each  of  them  was  conducted  along  a 
gallery  shrouded  in  darkness,  through  a  long  damp  vault 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  107 

to  a  narrow  door  which  which  was  suddenly  opened. 
This  reached,  a  jailer  pushed  the  Representative  in  by 
the  shoulders,  and  the  door  was  shut. 

The  Representative,  thus  immured,  found  himself  in  a 
little,  long,  narrow,  dark  room.  It  is  this  which  the 
prudent  language  of  modern  legislation  terms  a  "  cell." 
Here  the  full  daylight  of  a  December  noon  only  produced 
a  dusky  twilight.  At  one  end  there  was  a  door,  with  a 
little  grating ;  at  the  other,  close  to  the  ceiling,  at  a  height 
of  ten  or  twelve  feet,  there  was  a  loophole  with  a  fluted 
glass  window.  This  window  dimmed  the  eye,  and  pre- 
vented it  from  seeing  the  blue  or  gray  of  the  sky,  or  from 
distinguishing  the  cloud  from  the  sun's  ray,  and  invested 
the  wan  daylight  of  winter  with  an  indescribable  uncer- 
tainty. It  was  even  less  than  a  dim  light,  it  was  a  turbid 
light.  The  inventors  of  this  fluted  window  succeeded  in 
making  the  heavens  squint. 

After  a  few  moments  the  prisoner  began  to  distinguish 
objects  confusedly,  and  this  is  what  he  found :  White- 
washed walls  here,  and  there  turned  green  by  various 
exhalations  ;  in  one  corner  a  round  hole  guarded  by  iron 
bars,  and  exhaling  a  disgusting  smell ;  in  another  corner 
a  slab  turning  upon  a  hinge  like  the  bracket  seat  of  a 
Jiacre,  and  thus  capable  of  being  used  as  a  table ;  no  bed ; 
a  straw-bottomed  chair;  under  foot  a  brick  floor.  Gloom 
was  the  first  impression ;  cold  was  the  second.  There, 
then,  the  prisoner  found  himself,  alone,  chilled,  in  this 
semi-darkness,  being  able  to  walk  up  and  down  the  space 
of  eight  square  feet  like  a  caged  wolf,  or  to  remain  seated 
on  his  chair  like  an  idiot  at  Bicetre. 

In  this  situation  an  ex-Republican  of  the  Eve,  who  had 
become  a  member  of  the  majority,  and  on  occasions  sided 
somewhat  with  the  Bonapartists,  M.  Emile  Leroux,  who 
had,  moreover,  been  thrown  into  Mazas  by  mistake,  hav- 
ing doubtless  been  taken  for  some  other  Leroux,  began 
to  weep  with  rage.  Three,  four,  five  hours  thus  passed 
away.  In  the  meanwhile  they  had  not  eaten  since  the 
morning  ;  some  of  them,  in  the  excitement  caused  by  the 
coi/p  d'etat  had  not  even  breakfasted.  Hunger  came  upon 
them.  Were  they  to  be  forgotten  there?  No;  a  bell 
rang  in  the  prison,  the  grating  of  the  door  opened,  and  an 
arm  held  out  to  the  prisoner  a  pewter  porringer  and  a 
piece  of  bread. 


108  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

The  prisoner  greedily  seized  the  bread  and  the 
porringer.  The  bread  was  black  and  sticky  ;  the  porrin- 
ger contained  a  sort  of  thick  water,  warm  and  reddish. 
Nothing  oan  be  compared  to  the  smell  of  this  "  soup." 
As  for  the  bread,  it  only  smelt  of  mouldiness. 

However  great  their  hunger,  most  of  the  prisoners  dur- 
ing the  first  moment  threw  down  their  bread  on  the  floor, 
and  emptied  the  porringer  down  the  hole  with  the  iron 
bars. 

Nevertheless  the  stomach  craved,  the  hours  passed  by, 
they  picked  up  the  bread,  and  ended  by  eating  it.  One 
prisoner  went  so  far  as  to  pick  up  the  porringer  and  .to 
attempt  to  wipe  out  the  bottom  with  his  bread,  which  he 
afterwards  devoured.  Subsequently,  this  prisoner,  a 
Representative  set  at  liberty  in  exile,  described  to  me 
this  dietary,  and  said  to  me,  "A  hungry  stomach  has  no 
nose." 

Meanwhile  there  was  absolute  solitude  and  profound 
silence.  However,  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours,  M. 
Emile  Leroux — he  himself  has  told  the  fact  to  M.  Ver- 
signy — heard  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall  on  his  right  a 
sort  of  curious  knocking,  spaced  out  and  intermittent  at 
irregular  intervals.  He  listened,  and  almost  at  the  same 
moment  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall  to  his  left  a  similar 
rapping  responded.  M.  Emile  Leroux,  enraptured — what 
a  pleasure  it  was  to  hear  a  noise  of  some  kind ! — thought 
of  his  colleagues,  prisoners  like  himself,  and  cried  out  in  a 
tremendous  voice,  "  Oh,  oh  !  you  are  there  also,  you  fel- 
lows !  "  He  had  scarcely  uttered  this  sentence  when  the 
door  of  his  cell  was  opened  with  a  creaking  of  hinges  and 
bolts ;  a  man — the  jailer — appeared  in  a  great  rage,  and 
said  to  him, — 

"  Hold  your  tongue ! " 

The  Representative  of  the  People,  somewhat  bewildered, 
asked  for  an  explanation. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,"  replied  the  jailer,  "  or  I  will  pitch 
you  into  a  dungeon." 

This  jailer  spoke  to  the  prisoner  as  the  coup  cVetat  spoke 
to  the  nation. 

M.  Emile  Leroux,  with  his  persistent  parliamentary 
habits,  nevertheless  attempted  to  insist. 

"  What !  "  said  he,  "  can  I  not  answer  the  signals  which 
two  of  my  colleagues  are  making  to  me  ?  " 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  109 

"  Two  of  your  colleagues,  indeed,"  answered  the  jailer, 
"  they  are  two  thieves."  And  he  shut  the  door,  shouting 
with  laughter. 

They  were,  in  fact,  two  thieves,  between  whom  M. 
Emile  LerOux  was,  not  crucified,  but  locked  up. 

The  Mazas  prison  is  so  ingeniously  built  that  the  least 
word  can  be  heard  from  one  cell  to  another.  Conse- 
quently there  is  no  isolation,  notwithstanding  the  cel- 
lular system.  Thence  this  rigorous  silence  imposed  by 
the  perfect  and  cruel  logic  of  the  rules.  What  do  the 
thieves  do?  They  have  invented  a  telegraphic  system 
of  raps,  and  the  rules  gain  nothing  by  their  stringency. 
M.  Emile  Leroux  had  simply  interrupted  a  conversation 
which  had  been  begun. 

"  Don't  interfere  with  our  friendly  patter,"  cried  out 
his  thief  neighbor,  who  for  this  exclamation  was  thrown 
into  the  dungeon. 

Such  was  the  life  of  the  Representatives  at  Mazas. 
Moreover,  as  they  were  in  secret  confinement,  not  a  book, 
not  a  sheet  of  paper,  not  a  pen,  not  even  an  hour's  exercise 
in  the  courtyard  was  allowed  to  them. 

The  thieves  also  go  to  Mazas,  as  we  have  seen. 

But  those  who  know  a  trade  are  permitted  to  work ; 
those  who  know  how  to  read  are  supplied  with  books ; 
those  who  know  how  to  write  are  granted  a  desk  and 
paper ;  all  are  permitted  the  hour's  exercise  required  by 
the  laws  of  health  and  authorized  by  the  rules. 

The  Representatives  were  allowed  nothing  whatever. 
Isolation,  close  confinement,  silence,  darkness,  cold,  "the 
amount  of  ennui  which  engenders  madness,"  as  Linguet 
has  said  when  speaking  of  the  Bastille. 

To  remain  seated  on  a  chair  all  day  long,  with  arms 
and  legs  crossed :  such  was  the  situation.  But  the  bed ! 
Could  they  lie  down  ? 

No. 

There  was  no  bed. 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  jailer  came  into 
the  cell,  and  reached  down,  and  removed  something  which 
was  rolled  up  on  a  plank  near  the  ceiling.  This  "  some- 
thing "  was  a  hammock. 

The  hammock  having  been  fixed,  hooked  up,  and  spread 
out,  the  jailer  wished  his  prisoner  "  Good-night." 

There  was  a  blanket  on  the  hammock,  sometimes  a 


110  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

mattress  some  two  inches  thick.  The  prisoner,  wrapt 
in  this  covering,  tried  to  sleep,  and  only  succeeded  in 
shivering. 

But  on  the  morrow  he  could  at  least  remain  lying  down 
all  day  in  his  hammock? 

Not  at  all. 

At  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  jailer  came  in, 
wished  the  Representative  "Good-morning,"  made  him 
get  up,  and  rolled  up  the  hammock  on  its  shelf  near  the 
ceiling. 

But  in  this  case  could  not  the  prisoner  take  down  the 
authorized  hammock,  unroll  it,  hook  it  up,  and  lie  down 
again  ? 

Yes,  he  could.     But  then  there  was  the  dungeon. 

This  was  the  routine.  The  hammock  for  the  night,  the 
chair  for  the  day. 

Let  us  be  just,  however.  Some  obtained  beds,  amongst 
others  MM.  Thiers  and  Roger  (du  Nord).  M.  Grevy  did 
not  have  one. 

Mazas  is  a  model  prison  of  progress  ;  it  is  certain  that 
Mazas  is  preferable  to  the piombi  of  Venice,  and  to  the 
under-water  dungeon  of  the  Chatelet.  Theoretical  phi- 
lanthropy has  built  Mazas.  Nevertheless,  as  has  been 
seen,  Mazas  leaves  plenty  to  be  desired.  Let  us  acknowl- 
edge that  from  a  certain  point  of  view  the  temporary 
solitary  confinement  of  the  law-makers  at  Mazas  does  not 
displease  us.  There  was  perhaps  something  of  Providence 
in  the  coup  cVetat.  Providence,  in  placing  the  Legislators 
at  Mazas,  has  performed  an  act  of  good  education.  Eat 
of  your  own  cooking ;  it  is  not  a  bad  thing  that  those  who 
own  prisons  should  try  them. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TnE  EPISODE  OF  THE  BOULEVARD  ST.  MARTIN. 

When  Charamaule  and  I  reached  No.  70,  Rue  Blanche, 
a  steep  lonely  street,  a  man  in  a  sort  of  naval  sub-officer's 
uniform,  was  walking  up  and  down  before  the  door.  The 
portress,  who  recognized  us,  called  our  attention  to  him. 
"  Nonsense,"  said  Charamaule,  "  a  man  walking  about  in 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  Ill 

that  manner,  and  dressed  after  that  fashion,  is  assuredly 
not  a  police  spy." 

"  My  dear  colleague,"  said  I,  "  Bedeau  has  proved  that 
the  police  are  "blockheads." 

We  went  upstairs.  The  drawing-room  and  a  little 
ante-chamber  which  led  to  it  were  full  of  Representatives, 
with  whom  were  mingled  a  good  many  persons  who  did 
not  belong  to  the  Assembly.  Some  ex-members  of  the 
Constituent  Assembly  were  there,  amongst  others,  Bastide 
and  several  Democratic  journalists.  The  Nationale  was 
represented  by  Alexander  Key  and  Leopold  Duras,  the 
liecobition  by  Xavier  Durrieu,  Vasbenter,  and  Watripon, 
the  Avenement  du  Peuple  by  H.  Coste,  nearly  all  the  other 
editors  of  the  Avenement  being  in  prison.  About  sixty 
members  of  the  Left  were  there,  and  among  others  Edgar 
Quinet,  Schoelcher,  Madier  de  Montjau,  Carnot,  Nodi 
Parfait,  Pierre  Lefranc,  Bancel,  de  Flotte,  Bruckner, 
Chaix,  Cassal,  Esquiros,  Durand-Savoyat,  Yvan,  Carlos 
Forel,  Etchegoyen,  Labrousse,Barthelemy  (Eure-et- Loire), 
Iluguenin,  Aubrey  (du  Nord),  Malardier,  Victor  Chauf- 
four,  Belin,  Renaud,  Bac,  Versigny,  Sain,  Joigneaux, 
Brives,  Guilgot,  Pelletier,  Doutre,  Gindrier,  Arnauld  (de. 
l'Ariege),  Raymond  (de  l'Isere),  Brillier,  Maigne,  Sartin, 
Raynaud,  Leon  Vidal,  Lafon,  Lamargue,  Bourzat,  and 
General  Rey. 

All  were  standing.  They  were  talking  without  order. 
Leopold  Duras  had  just  described  the  investment  of  the 
Cafe  Bonvalet.  Jules  Favre  and  Baud  in,  seated  at  a 
little  table  between  the  two  windows,  were  writing. 
Baudin  had  a  copy  of  the  Constitution  open  before  him, 
and  was  copying  Article  68. 

When  we  entered  there  was  silence,  and  they  asked  us, 
"  Well,  what  news  ?  " 

Charamaule  told  them  what  had  just  taken  place  on 
the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  and  the  advice  which  he  had 
thought  right  to  give  me.     They  approved  his  action. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  was  asked  on  every  side.  I 
began  to  speak. 

"  Let  us  go  straight  to  the  fact  and  to  the  point,"  said 
I.  "Louis  Bonaparte  is  gaining  ground,  and  we  are 
losing  ground,  or  rather,  we  should  say,  he  has  as  yet 
everything,  and  we  have  as  yet  nothing.  Charamaule 
and  I  have  been  obliged  to  separate  ourselves  from  Colonel 


112  THE  HIS  TOR  Y  OF  A  CRIME. 

Forestier.  I  doubt  if  he  will  succeed.  Louis  Bonaparte 
is  doing  all  be  can  to  suppress  us,  we  must  no  longer 
keep  in  tbe  background.  We  must  make  our  presence 
felt.  We  must  fan  this  beginning  of  the  flame  of  which 
we  have  seen  the  spark  on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple.  A 
proclamation  must  be  made,  no  matter  by  whom  it  is 
printed,  or  how  it  is  placarded,  but  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary, and  that  immediately.  Something  brief,  rapid,  and 
energetic.  No  set  phrases.  Ten  lines — an  appeal  to 
arms !  We  are  the  Law,  and  there  are  occasions  when 
the  Law  should  utter  a  war-cry.  The  Law,  outlawing  the 
traitor,  is  a  great  and  terrible  thing.     Let  us  do  it.'1 

They  interrupted  me  with  "Yes,  that  is  right,  a  proc- 
lamation ! " 

"Dictate!  dictate!" 

"  Dictate,"  said  Baudin  to  me,  "I  will  write." 

I  dictated : — 

"  To  the  People. 

"  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte  is  a  traitor. 
"  He  has  violated  the  Constitution. 
"He  is  forsworn. 

"  He  is  an  outlaw -" 

They  cried  out  to  me  on  every  side, — 

"  That  is  right !     Outlaw  him." 

"  Go  on." 

I  resumed  the  dictation.     Baudin  wrote, — 

"The  Republican  Representatives  refer  the  People 

and  the  Army  to  Article  68 " 

They  interrupted  me :  "  Quote  it  in  full." 
"No,"  said  I,  "it  would  be  too  long.  Something  is 
needed  which  can  be  placarded  on  a  card,  stuck  with  a 
wafer,  and  which  can  be  read  in  a  minute.  I  will  quote 
Article  110.  It  is  short  and  contains  the  appeal  to  arms." 
I  resumed, — 

"  The  Republican  Representatives  refer  the  People 
and  the  Army  to  Article  68  and  to  Article  110, 
which  runs  thus — '  The  Constituent  Assembly 
confides  the  existing  Constitution  and  the 
Laws  which  it  consecrates  to  the  keeping  and 
the  patriotism  of  all  Frenchmen.' 
"  The  People  henceforward  and  for  ever  in  posses- 
sion of  universal  suffrage,  and  who  need  no 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  113 

Prince  for  its  restitution,  will  know  how  to 
chastise  the  rebel. 
"Let  the  People  do  its  duty.    The  Republican 
Representatives  are  marching  at  its  head. 

"  Vive  la  Republique !     To  Arms !  " 

They  applauded. 

"  Let  us  all  sign,"  said  Pelletier. 

"  Let  us  try  to  find  a  printing-office  without  delay," 
said  Schoelcher,  "  and  let  the  proclamation  be  posted  up 
immediately." 

"Before  nightfall — the  days  are  short,"  added  Joi- 
gneaux. 

"  Immediately,  immediately,  several  copies  !  "  cabled 
out  the  Representatives. 

Baudin,  silent  and  rapid,  had  already  made  a  second 
copy  of  the  proclamation. 

A  young  man,  editor  of  the  provincial  Republican 
journal,  came  out  of  the  crowd,  and  declared  that,  if  they 
would  give  him  a  copy  at  once,  before  two  hours  should 
elapse  the  Proclamation  should  be  posted  at  all  the  street 
corners  in  Paris. 

I  asked  him, — 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

He  answered  me, — 

"  Milliere." 

Milliere.  It  is  in  this  manner  that  this  name  made  its 
first  appearance  in  the  gloomy  days  of  our  History.  I 
can  still  see  that  pale  young  man,  that  eye  at  the  same 
time  piercing  and  half  closed,  that  gentle  and  forbidding 
profile.  Assassination  and  the  Pantheon  awaited  him. 
He  was  too  obscure  to  enter  into  the  Temple,  he  was 
sufficiently  deserving  to  die  on  its  threshold.  Baudin 
showed  him  the  copy  which  he  had  just  made. 

Milliere  went  up  to  him. 

"  You  do  not  know  me,"  said  he ;  "  my  name  is  Milliere; 
but  I  know  you,  you  are  Baudin." 

Baudin  held  out  his  hand  to  him. 

I  was  present  at  the  handshaking  between  these  two 
spectres. 

Xavier  Durrieu,  who  was  editor  of  the  Revolution  made 
the  same  offer  as  Milliere. 

A  dozen  Representatives  took  their  pens  and  sat  down, 

8 


114  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

some  around  a  table,  others  with  a  sheet  of  paper  on  their 
knees,  and  called  out  to  me, — 

"  Dictate  the  Proclamation  to  us." 

I  had  dictated  to  Baudin,  "  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
is  a  traitor."  Jules  Favre  requested  the  erasure  of  the 
word  Napoleon,  that  name  of  glory  fatally  powerful  with 
the  People  and  with  the  Army,  -and  that  there  should  be 
written,  Louis  Bonaparte  is  a  traitor." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  I  to  him. 

A  discussion  followed.  Some  wished  to  strike  out  the 
word  "Prince."  But  the  Assembly  was  impatient. 
"  Quick !  quick ! "  they  cried  out.  "  We  are  in  December, 
the  days  are  short,"  repeated  Joigneaux. 

Twelve  copies  were  made  at  the  same  time  in  a  few 
minutes.  Schoelcher,  Key,  Xavicr  Durrieu,  and  Milliere 
each  took  one,  and  set  out  in  search  of  a  printing  office. 

As  they  went  out  a  man  whom  I  did  not  know,  but  who 
was  greeted  by  several  Representatives,  entered  and  said, 
"  Citizens,  this  house  is  marked.  Troops  are  on  the  way 
to  surround  you.     You  have  not  a  second  to  lose." 

Numerous  voices  were  raised, — 

"  Very  well !     Let  them  arrest  us ! " 

"  What  does  it  matter  to  us  ?  " 

"  Let  them  complete  their  crime." 

"Colleagues,"  said  I,  "let  us  not  allow  ourselves  to  be 
arrested.  After  the  struggle,  as  God  pleases  ;  but  before 
the  combat, — No!  It  is  from  us  that  the  people  are 
awaiting  the  initiative.  If  we  are  taken,  all  is  at  an  end. 
Our  duty  is  to  bring  on  the  battle,  our  right  is  to  cross 
swords  with  the  coup  d'etat.  It  must  not  be  allowed  to 
capture  us,  it  must  seek  us  and  not  find  us.  We  must 
deceive  the  arm  which  it  stretches  out  against  us,  we 
must  remain  concealed  from  Bonaparte,  we  must  harass 
him,  weary  him,  astonish  him,  exhaust  him,  disappear  and 
reappear  unceasingly,  change  our  hiding-place,  and  always 
fight  him,  be  always  before  him,  and  never  beneath  his 
hand.  Let  us  not  leave  the  field.  We  have  not  numbers, 
let  us  have  daring." 

They  approved  of  this.  "  It  is  right,"  said  they,  "  but 
where  shall  we  go?" 

Labrousse  said, — 

"Our  former  colleague  of  the  Constituent  Assembly, 
Beslay,  offers  us  his  house." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME  115 

"  Where  does  he  live  ?  " 

"  No.  33,  Rue  de  la  Cerisaie,  in  the  Marais." 

"  Very  well,"  answered  I,  "  let  us  separate.  We  will 
meet  again  in  two  hours  at  Beslay's,  No.  33,  Rue  de  la 
Cerisaie." 

All  left ;  one  after  another,  and  in  different  directions. 
I  begged  Charamaule  to  go  to  my  house  and  wait  for  me 
there,  and  I  walked  out  with  Noel  Parfait  and  Lafon. 

We  reached  the  then  still  uninhabited  district  which 
skirts  the  ramparts.  As  we  came  to  the  corner  of  the 
Rue  Pigalle,  we  saw  at  a  hundred  paces  from  us,  in  the 
deserted  streets  which  cross  it,  soldiers  gliding  all  along 
the  houses,  bending  their  steps  towards  the  Rue  Blanche. 

At  three  o'clock  the  members  of  the  Left  rejoined  each 
other  in  the  Rue  de  la  Cerisaie.  But  the  alarm  had  been 
given,  and  the  inhabitants  of  these  lonely  streets  stationed 
themselves  at  the  windows  to  see  the  Representatives 
pass.  The  place  of  meeting,  situated  and  hemmed  in  at 
the  bottom  of  a  back  yard,  was  badly  chosen  in  the  event 
of  being  surrounded :  all  these  disadvantages  were  at 
once  perceived,  and  the  meeting  only  lasted  a  few  seconds. 
It  was  presided  over  by  Joly  ;  Xavier  Durrieu  and  Jules 
Gouache,  who  were  editors  of  the  Revolution,  also  took 
part,  as  well  as  several  Italian  exiles,  amongst  others 
Colonel  Carini  and  Montanelli,  ex-Minister  of  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Tuscany.  I  liked  Montanelli,  a  gentle  and  daunt- 
less spirit. 

Madier  de  Montjau  brought  news  from  the  outskirts. 
Colonel  Forestier,  without  losing  and  without  taking 
away  hope,  told  them  of  the  obstacles  which  he  had 
encountered  in  his  attempts  to  call  together  the  Uth 
Legion.  He  pressed  me  to  sign  his  appointment  as 
Colonel,  as  well  as  Michel  de  Bourges ;  but  Michel  de 
Bourges  was  absent,  and  besides,  neither  Michel  de 
Bourges  nor  I  had  yet  at  that  time  the  authority  from  the 
Left.  Nevertheless,  under  this  reservation  I  signed  his 
appointment.  The  perplexities  were  becoming  more  and 
more  numerous.  The  Proclamation  was  not  yet  printed, 
and  the  evening  was  closing  in.  Sch(elcher  explained  the 
difficulties :  all  the  printing  offices  closed  and  guarded  ; 
an  order  placarded  that  whoever  should  print  an  appeal 
to  arms  would  be  immediately  shot ;  the  workmen  terri- 
fied; no  money.     A  hat  was  sent  round,  and  each  threw 


116  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

into  it  what  money  he  had  about  him.  They  collected  in 
this  manner  a  few  hundred  francs. 

Xavier  Durrieu,  whose  fiery  courage  never  flagged  for 
a  single  moment,  reiterated  that  he  would  undertake  the 
printing,  and  promised  that  by  eight  o'clock  that  evening 
there  should  be  40,000  copies  of  the  Proclamation.  Time 
pressed.  They  separated,  after  fixing  as  a  rendezvous 
the  premises  of  the  Society  of  Cabinet-makers  in  the 
Rue  de  Charonne,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  so  as 
to  allow  time  for  the  situation  to  reveal  itself.  As  we 
went  out  and  crossed  the  Rue  Beautreillis  I  saw  Pierre 
Leroux  coming  up  to  me.  He  had  taken  no  part  in  our 
meetings.     He  said  to  me, — 

"  I  believe  this  struggle  to  be  useless.  Although  my 
point  of  view  is  different  from  yours,  I  am  your  friend. 
Beware.  There  is  yet  time  to  stop.  You  are  entering 
into  the  catacombs.     The  catacombs  are  Death." 

"  They  are  also  Life,"  answered  I. 

All  the  same,  I  thought  with  joy  that  my  two  sons 
were  in  prison,  and  that  this  gloomy  duty  of  street  fight- 
ing was  imposed  upon  me  alone. 

There  yet  remained  five  hours  until  the  time  fixed  for 
the  rendezvous.  I  wished  to  go  home,  and  once  more  em- 
brace my  wife  and  daughter  before  precipitating  myself 
into  that  abyss  of  the  "  unknown "  which  was  there, 
yawning  and  gloomy,  and  which  several  of  us  were  about 
to  enter,  never  to  return. 

Arnauld  (de  l'Ariege)  gave  me  his  arm.  The  two  Ital- 
ian exiles,  Carini  and  Montanelli,  accompanied  me. 

Montanelli  took  my  hands  and  said  to  me,  "  Right  will 
conquer.  You  will  conquer.  Oh  !  that  this  time  France 
may  not  be  sefish  as  in  1848,  and  that  she  may  deliver 
Italy."     I  answered  him,  "  She  will  deliver  Europe." 

Those  were  our  illusions  at  that  moment,  but  this,  how- 
ever, does  not  prevent  them  from  being  our  hopes  to-day. 
Faith  is  thus  constituted;  shadows  demonstrate  to  it  the 
light. 

There  is  a  cabstand  before-  the  front  gate  of  St.  Paul. 
We  went  there.  The  Rue  St.  Antoine  was  alive  with 
that  indescribable  uneasy  swarming  which  precedes  those 
strange  battles  of  ideas  against  deeds  which  are  called 
Revolutions.  I  seemed  to  catch,  in  this  great  working- 
class  district,  a  glimpse  of  a  gleam  of  light  which,  alas, 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  117 

died  out  speedily.  The  cabstand  before  St.  Paul  was 
deserted.  The  drivers  had  foreseen  the  possibility  of  bar- 
ricades, and  had  fled. 

Three  miles  separated  Arnauld  and  myself  from  our 
houses.  It  was  impossible  to  walk  there  through  the  mid- 
dle of  Paris,  without  being  recognized  at  each  step.  Two 
passers-by  extricated  us  from  our  difficulty.  One  of  them 
said  to  the  other,  "  The  omnibuses  are  still  running  on 
the  Boulevards." 

We  profited  by  this  information,  and  went  to  look  for 
a  Bastille  omnibus.     All  four  of  us  got  in. 

I  entertained  at  heart,  I  repeat,  wrongly  or  rightly,  a 
bitter  reproach  for  the  opportunity  lost  during  the  morn- 
ing. I  said  to  myself  that  on  critical  days  such  moments 
come,  but  do  not  return.  There  are  two  theories  of  Rev- 
olution :  to  arouse  the  people,  or  to  let  them  come  of 
themselves.  The  first  theory  was  mine,  but,  through 
force  of  discipline,  I  had  obeyed  the  second.  I  reproached 
myself  with  this.  I  said  to  myself,  "The  People 
offered  themselves,  and  we  did  not  accept  them.  It  is  for 
us  now  not  to  offer  ourselves,  but  to  do  more,  to  give 
ourselves." 

Meanwhile  the  omnibus  had  started.  It  was  full.  I 
had  taken  my  place  at  the  bottom  on  the  left ;  Arnauld 
(de  l'Ariege)  sat  next  to  me,  Carini  opposite,  Montanelli 
next  to  Arnauld.  We  did  not  speak  ;  Arnauld  and  my- 
self silently  exchanged  that  pressure  of  hands  which  is 
a  means  of  exchanging  thoughts. 

As  the  omnibus  proceeded  towards  the  centre  of  Paris 
the  crowd  became  denser  on  the  Boulevard.  As  the  omni- 
bus entered  into  the  cutting  of  the  Porte  St.  Martin  a 
regiment  of  heavy  cavalry  arrived  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion. In  a  few  seconds  this  regiment  passed  by  the  side 
of  us.  They  were  cuirassiers.  They  filed  by  at  a  sharp 
trot  and  with  drawn  swords.  The  people  leaned  over 
from  the  height  of  the  pavements  to  see  them  pass.  Not 
a  single  cry.  On  the  one  side  the  people  dejected,  on  the 
other  the  soldiers  triumphant.     All  this  stirred  me. 

Suddenly  the  regiment  halted.  I  do  not  know  what 
obstruction  momentarily  impeded  its  advance  in  this  nar- 
row cutting  of  the  Boulevard  in  which  we  were  hemmed 
in.  By  its  halt  it  stopped  the  omnibus.  There  were  the 
soldiers.     We  had  them  under  our  eyes,  before  us,  at  two 


118  THE  III 8  TO  7?  Y  OF  A  CRIME. 

paces  distance,  their  horses  touching  the  horses  of  our 
vehicle,  these  Frenchmen  who  had  become  Mamelukes, 
these  citizen  soldiers  of  the  Great  Republic  transformed 
into  supporters  of  the  degraded  Empire.  From  the  place 
where  I  sat  I  almost  touched  them ;  I  could  no  longer 
restrain  myself. 

I  lowered  the  window  of  the  omnibus.  I  put  out  my 
head,  and,  looking  fixedly  at  the  dense  line  of  soldiers 
which  faced  me,  I  called  out,  "  Down  with  Louis  Bona- 
parte.    Those  who  serve  traitors  are  traitors ! " 

Those  nearest  to  me  turned  their  heads  towards  me  and 
looked  at  me  with  a  tipsy  air ;  the  others  did  not  stir, 
and  remained  at  "  shoulder  arms,"  the  peaks  of  their 
helmets  over  their  eyes,  their  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ears  of 
their  horses. 

In  great  affairs  there  is  the  immobility  of  statues ;  in 
petty  mean  affairs  there  is  the  immobility  of  puppets. 

At  the  shout  which  I  raised  Arnauld  turned  sharply 
round.  He  also  had  lowered  his  window,  and  he  was 
leaning  half  out  of  the  omnibus,  with  his  arms  extended 
towards  the  soldiers,  and  he  shouted,  "Down  with  the 
traitors ! " 

To  see  him  thus  with  his  dauntless  gesture,  his  hand- 
some head,  pale  and  calm,  his  fervent  expression,  his 
beard  and  his  long  chestnut  hair,  one  seemed  to  behold 
the  radiant  and  fulminating  face  of  an  angry  Christ. 

The  example  was  contagious  and  electrical. 

"  Down  with  the  traitors ! "  shouted  Carini  and  Mon- 
tanelli. 

"  Down  with  the  Dictator !  Down  with  the  traitors !  " 
repeated  a  gallant  young  man  with  whom  we  were  not 
acquainted,  and  who  was  sitting  next  to  Carini. 

With  the  exception  of  this  young  man,  the  whole  omni- 
bus seemed  seized  with  terror  ! 

"  Hold  your  tongues  !  "  exclaimed  these  poor  frightened 
people ;  "  you  will  cause  us  all  to  be  massacred."  One, 
still  more  terrified,  lowered  the  window,  and  began  to 
shout  to  the  soldiers,  "  Long  live  Prince  Xapoleon !  Long 
live  the  Emperor  !  " 

There  were  five  of  us,  and  we  overpowered  this  cry  by 
our  persistent  protest,  "  Down  with  Louis  Bonaparte ! 
Down  with  the  traitors  !  " 

The  soldiers  listened  in   gloomy  silence.     A  corporal 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  119 

turned  with  a  threatening  air  towards  us,  and  shook  his 
sword.     The  crowd  looked  on  in  bewilderment. 

What  passed  within  me  at  that  moment  ?  I  cannot  tell ! 
I  was  in  a  whirlwind.  I  had  at  the  same  time  yielded  to  a 
calculation,  finding  the  opportunity  good,  and  to  a  burst 
of  rage,  finding  the  encounter  insolent. 

A  woman  cried  out  to  us  from  the  pavement,  "  You  will 
get  yourselves  cut  to  pieces."  I  vaguely  imagined  that 
some  collision  was  about  to  ensue,  and  that,  either  from 
the  crowd  or  from  the  Army,  the  spark  would  fly  out.  I 
hoped  for  a  sword-cut  from  the  soldiers  or  a  shout  of  anger 
from  the  people.  In  short  I  had  obeyed  rather  an  instinct 
than  an  idea. 

But  nothing  came  of  it,  neither  the  sword-cut  nor  the 
shout  of  anger.  The  soldiers  did  not  bestir  themselves 
and  the  people  maintained  silence.  Was  it  too  late  ? 
Was  it  too  soon  ? 

The  mysterious  man  of  the  Elysee  had  not  foreseen  the 
event  of  an  insult  to  his  name  being  thrown  in  the  very 
face  of  the  soldiers.  The  soldiers  had  no  orders.  They 
received  them  that  evening.  This  was  seen  on  the  mor- 
row. 

In  another  moment  the  regiment  broke  into  a  gallop, 
and  the  omnibus  resumed  its  journey.  As  the  cuirassiers 
filed  past  us  Arnauld  (de  l'Ariege),  still  leaning  out  of  the 
vehicle,  continued  to  shout  in  their  ears,  for  as  I  have  just 
said,  their  horses  touched  us,  "  Down  with  the  Dictator! 
Down  with  the  traitors !  " 

We  alighted  in  the  Rue  Lafitte.  Carini,  Montanelli, 
and  Arnauld  left  me,  and  I  went  on  alone  towards  the  R*ie 
de  *la  Tour  d'Auvergne.  Night  was  coming  on.  As  I 
turned  the  corner  of  the  street  a  man  passed  close  by  me. 
By  the  light  of  a  street  lamp  I  recognized  a  workman  at  a 
neighboring  tannery,  and  he  said  to  me  in  a  low  tone,  and 
quickly,  "  Do  not  return  home.  The  police  surround  your 
house." 

I  went  back  again  towards  the  Boulevard,  through  the 
streets  laid  out,  but  not  then  built,  which  make  a  Y  under 
my  windows  behind  my  house.  Not  being  able  to  embrace 
my  wife  and  daughter,  I  thought  over  what  I  could  do 
during  the  moments  which  remained  to  me.  A  remem- 
brance came  into  my  mind. 


120  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE   EEBOUND  OF    THE  24TII  JUNE,  1348,  ON   THE  2d  DECEM- 
BER, 1851. 

On  Sunday,  26th  June,  1848,  that  four  days'  combat, 
that  gigantic  combat  so  formidable  and  so  heroic  on  both 
sides,  still  continued,  but  the  insurrection  had  been  over- 
come nearly  everywhere,  and  was  restricted  to  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Antoine.  Four  men  who  had  been  amongst 
the  most  dauntless  defenders  of  the  barricades  of  the  Rue 
Pont-aux-Choux,  of  the  Rue  St.  Claude,  and  of  the  Rue 
St.  Louis  in  the  Marais,  escaped  after  the  barricades  had 
been  taken,  and  found  safe  refuge  in  a  house,  Xo.  12,  Rue 
St.  Anastase.  They  were  concealed  in  an  attic.  The 
National  Guards  and  the  Mobile  Guards  were  hunting  for 
them,  in  order  to  shoot  them.  I  was  told  of  this.  I  was 
one  of  the  sixty  Representatives  sent  by  the  Constituent 
Assembly  into  the  middle  of  the  conflict,  charged  with  the 
task  of  everywhere  preceding  the  attacking  column,  of 
carrying,  even  at  the  peril  of  their  lives,  words  of  peace 
to  the  barricades,  to  prevent  the  shedding  of  blood,  and  to 
stop  the  civil  war.  1  went  into  the  Rue  St.  Anastase,  and 
I  saved  the  lives  of  those  four  men. 

Amongst  those  men  there  was  a  poor  workman  of  the 
Rue  de  Charonne,  whose  wife  was  being  confined  at  that 
vecy  moment,  and  who  was  weeping.  One  could  under- 
stand, when  hearing  his  sobs  and  seeing  his  rags,  how"  he 
had  cleared  with  a  single  bound  these  three  steps — 
poverty,  despair,  rebellion.  Their  chief  was  a  young 
man,  pale  and  fair,  with  high  cheek  bones,  intelligent 
brow,  and  an  earnest  and  resolute  countenance.  As  soon 
as  I  set  him  free,  and  told  him  my  name,  he  also  wept, 
lie  said  to  me,  "  When  I  think  that  an  hour  ago  I  knew 
that  you  were  facing  us,  and  that  I  wished  that  the 
barrel  of  my  gun  had  eyes  to  see  and  kill  you ! "  He 
added,  "  In  the  times  in  which  we  live  we  do  not  know 
what  may  happen.  If  ever  you  need  me,  for  whatever 
purpose,  come."  I  lis  name  was  Auguste,  and  he  was  a 
wine-seller  in  the  Rue  de  la  Roquette. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  121 

Since  that  time  I  had  only  seen  him  once,  on  the  26th 
August,  1849,  on  the  clay  when  I  held  the  corner  of 
Balzac's  pall.  The  funeral  possession  was  going  to  Pore 
la  Chaise.  Auguste's  shop  was  on  the  way.  All  the 
streets  through  which  the  procession  passed  were  crowded. 
Auguste  was  at  his  door  with  his  young  wife  and  two  or 
three  workmen.     As  I  passed  he  greeted  me. 

It  was  this  remembrance  which  came  back  to  my  mind 
as  I  descended  the  lonely  streets  behind  my  house  ;  in  the 
presence  of  the  2d  of  December  I  thought  of  him.  I 
thought  that  he  might  give  me  information  about  the 
Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  and  help  us  in  rousing  the  people. 
This  young  man  had  at  once  given  me  the  impression  of  a 
soldier  and  a  leader.  I  remembered  the  words  which  he 
had  spoken  to  me,  and  I  considered  it  might  be  useful  to  see 
him.  I  began  by  going  to  find  in  the  Rue  St.  Anastase 
the  courageous  woman  who  had  hidden  Auguste  and  his 
three  companions,  to  whom  she  had  several  times  since 
rendered  assistance.  I  begged  her  to  accompany  me. 
She  consented. 

On  the  way  I  dined  upon  a  cake  of  chocolate  which 
Charamaule  had  given  me. 

The  aspects  of  the  boulevards,  in  coming  down  the 
Italiens  towards  the  Marais,  had  impressed  me.  The 
shops  were  open  everywhere  as  usual.  There  was  little 
military  display.  In  the  wealthy  quarters  there  was 
much  agitation  and  concentration  of  troops ;  but  on 
advancing  towards  the  working-class  neighborhoods 
solitude  reigned  paramount.  Before  the  Cafe  Turc  a 
regiment  was  drawn  up.  A  band  of  young  men  in 
blouses  passed  before  the  regiment  singing  the  "  Marseil- 
laise." I  answered  them  by  crying  out  "  To  Arms  !  "  The 
regiment  did  not  stir.  The  light  shone  upon  the  playbills 
on  an  adjacent  wall ;  the  theatres  were  open.  I  looked  at 
the  trees  as  I  passed.  They  were  playing  Hernani  at  the 
Theatre  des  Italiens,  with  a  new  tenor  named  Guasco. 

The  Place  de  la  Bastille  was  frequented,  as  usual,  by 
goers  and  comers,  the  most  peaceable  folk  in  the  world. 
A  few  workmen  grouped  round  the  July  Column,  and, 
chatting  in  a  low  voice,  were  scarcely  noticeable. 
Through  the  windows  of  a  wine  shop  could  be  seen 
two  men  who  were  disputing  for  and  against  the  coup 
d'etat.    He  who  favored  it  wore  a  blouse,  he  who  attacked 


122  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

it  wore  a  cloth  coat.  A  few  steps  further  on  a  juggler 
had  placed  between  four  caudles  his  X-shaped  table,  and 
was  displaying  his  conjuring  tricks  in  the  midst  of  a 
crowd,  who  were  evidently  thinking  only  of  the  juggler. 
On  looking  towards  the  gloomy  loneliness  of  the  Quai 
Mazas  several  harnessed  artillery  batteries  were  dimly 
visibly  in  the  darkness.  Some  lighted  torches  here  and 
there  showed  up  the  black  outline  of  the  cannons. 

I  had  some  trouble  in  finding  Auguste's  door  in  the  "Rue 
de  la  Roquette.  Nearly  all  the  shops  were  shut,  thus 
making  the  street  very  dark.  At  length,  through  a  glass 
shop-front  I  noticed  a  light  which  gleamed  on  a  pewter 
counter.  Beyond  the  counter,  through  a  partition  also 
of  glass  and  ornamented  with  white  curtains,  another 
light,  and  the  shadows  of  two  or  three  men  at  table  could 
be  vaguely  distinguished.     This  was  the  place. 

I  entered.  The  door  on  opening  rang  a  bell.  At  the 
sound,  the  door  of  the  glazed  partition  which  separated 
the  shop  from  the  parlor  opened,  and  Auguste  appeared. 

He  knew  me  at  once,  and  came  up  to  me. 

"Ah,  sir,"  said  he,  "it  is  you  !  " 

"Do  you  know  what  is  going  on?"  I  asked  him. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

This  "  Yes,  sir,"  uttered  with  calmness,  and  even  with 
a  certain  embarrassment,  told  me  all.  Where  I  expected 
an  indignant  outcry  I  found  this  peaceable  answer.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  I  was  speaking  to  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine  itself.  I  understood  that  all  was  at  an  end  in 
this  district,  and  that  we  had  nothing  to  expect  from  it. 
The  people,  tins  wonderful  people,  had  resigned  them- 
selves.    Nevertheless,  I  made  an  effort. 

"  Louis  Bonaparte  betrays  the  Republic,"  said  I,  with- 
out noticing  that  I  raised  my  voice. 

He  touched  my  arm,  and  pointing  with  his  ringer  to  the 
shadows  which  were  pictured  on  the  glazed  partition  of 
the  parlor,  "Take  care,  sir ;  do  not  talk  so  loudly." 

"  What!  "  I  exclaimed,  "  you  have  come  to  this — you 
dare  not  speak,  you  dare  not  utter  the  name  of 'Bona- 
parte '  aloud ;  you  barely  mumble  a  few  words  in  a  whisper 
here,  in  this  street,  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  where, 
from  all  the  doors,  from  all  the  windows,  from  all  the 
pavements,  from  all  the  very  stones,  ought  to  be  heard 
the  cry,  *  To  arms.' " 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  123 

Auguste  demonstrated  to  me  what  I  already  saw  too 
clearly,  and  what  Girard  had  shadowed  forth  in  the  morn- 
ing— the  moral  situation  of  the  Faubourg — that  the  people 
were  "  dazed " — that  it  seemed  to  all  of  them  that 
universal  suffrage  was  restored  ;  that  the  downfall  of  the 
law  of  the  31st  of  May  was  a  good  thing. 

Here  I  interrupted  him. 

"  But  this  law  of  the  31st  of  May,  it  was  Louis  Bona- 
parte who  instigated  it,  it  was  Rouher  who  made  it,  it 
was  Baroche  who  proposed  it,  and  the  Bonapartists  who 
voted  it.  You  are  dazzled  by  a  thief  who  has  taken  your 
purse,  and  who  restores  it  to  you  ! " 

"  Not  I,"  said  Auguste,  "  but  the  others." 

And  he  continued,  "  To  tell  the  whole  truth,  people  did 
not  care  much  for  the  Constitution, — they  liked  the  lie- 
public,  but  the  Republic  was  maintained  too  much  by 
force  for  their  taste.  In  all  this  they  could  only  see  one 
thing  clearly,  the  cannons  ready  to  slaughter  them — they 
remembered  June,  1848 — there  were  some  poor  people 
who  had  suffered  greatly — Cavaignac  had  done  much 
evil — women  clung  to  the  men's  blouses  to  prevent  them 
from  going  to  the  barricades — nevertheless,  with  all 
this,  when  seeing  men  like  ourselves  at  their  head,  they 
would  perhaps  right,  but  this  hindered  them,  they  did  not 
know  for  what."  He  concluded  by  saying,  "  The  upper 
part  of  the  Faubourg  is  doing  nothing,  the  lower  end  will 
do  better.  Round  about  here  they  will  fight.  The  Rue 
de  la  Roquette  is  good,  the  Rue  de  Charonne  is  good ; 
but  on  the  side  of  Fere  la  Chaise  they  ask,  '  What  good 
will  that  do  us?'  They  only  recognize  the  forty  sous  of 
their  day's  work.  They  will  not  bestir  themselves ;  do 
not  reckon  upon  the  masons."  He  added,  with  a  smile, 
"Here  we  do  not  say 'cold  as  a  stone,'  but  'cold  as  a 
mason'  " — and  he  resumed,  "As  for  me,  if  I  am  alive,  it 
is  to  you  that  I  owe  my  life.  Dispose  of  me.  I  will  lay 
down  my  life,  and  will  do  what  you  wish." 

While  he  was  speaking  I  saw  the  white  curtain  of  the 
glazed  partition  behind  him  move  a  little.  His  young- 
wife,  uneasy,  was  peeping  through  at  us. 

"Ah!  my  God,"  said  I  to  him,  "what  we  want  is  not 
the  life  of  one  man  but  the  efforts  of  all." 

He  was  silent.     I  continued, — 

"  Listen  to  me,  Auguste,  you  who  are  good  and  intelligent. 


124  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

So,  then,  the  Faubourgs  of  Paris — which  are  heroes  even 
when  they  err — the  Faubourgs  of  Paris,  for  a  misunder- 
standing, for  a  question  of  salary  wrongly  construed,  for  a 
bad  definition  of  socialism,  rose  in  June,  1848,  against  the 
Assembly  elected  by  themselves,  against  universal  suf- 
frage, against  their  own  vote;  and  yet  they  will  not  rise 
in  December,  1851,  for  Right,  for  the  Law,  for  the  People, 
for  Liberty,  for  the  Republic.  You  say  that  there  is 
perplexity,  and  that  you  do  not  understand ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  it  was  in  June  that  all  was  obscure,  and  it  is  to- 
day that  everything  is  clear ! " 

While  I  was  saying  these  last  words  the  door  of  the 
parlor  was  softly  opened,  and  some  one  came  in.  It  was 
a  young  man,  fair  as  Auguste,  in  an  overcoat,  and  wearing 
a  workman's  cap.  I  started.  Auguste  turned  round  and 
said  to  me,  "  You  can  trust  him." 

The  young  man  took  off  his  cap,  came  close  up  to  me, 
carefully  turning  his  back  on  the  glazed  partition,  and 
said  to  me  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  know  you  well.  I  was  on 
the  Boulevard  du  Temple  to-day.  We  asked  you  what 
we  were  to  do ;  you  said,  '  We  must  take  up  arms.'  Well, 
here  they  are  !  " 

He  thrust  his  hands  into  the  pockets  of  his  overcoat 
and  drew  out  two  pistols. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  the  bell  of  the  street  door 
sounded.  •  He  hurriedly  put  his  pistols  back  into  his 
pockets.  A  man  in  a  blouse  came  in,  a  workman  of  some 
fifty  years.  This  man,  without  looking  at  any  one,  with- 
out saying  anything,  threw  down  a  piece  of  money  on  the 
counter.  Auguste  took  a  small  glass  and  filled  it  with 
brandy,  the  man  drank  it  off,  put  down  the  glass  upon 
the  counter  and  went  away. 

When  the  door  was  shut :  "You  see,"  said  Auguste  to 
me,  "  they  drink,  they  eat,  they  sleep,  they  think  of  noth- 
ing.    Such  are  they  all!  " 

The  other  interrupted  him  impetuously  :  "  One  man  is 
not  the  People !  " 

And  turning  towards  me, — 

"  Citizen  Victor  Hugo,  they  will  march  forward.  If  all 
do  not  march,  some  will  march.  To  tell  the  truth,  it  is 
perhaps  not  here  that  a  beginning  should  be  made,  it  is 
on  the  other  side  of  the  water." 

And  suddenly  checking  himself, — 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  125 

"  After  all,  you  probably  do  not  know  my  name." 

He  took  a  little  pocket-book  from  his  pocket,  tore  out 
a  piece  of  paper,  wrote  on  it  his  name,  and  gave  it  to  me. 
I  regret  having  forgotten  that  name.  He  was  a  working 
engineer.  In  order  not  to  compromise  him,  I  burnt  this 
paper  with  many  others  on  the  Saturday  morning,  when 
I  was  on  the  point  of  being  arrested. 

"It  is  true,  sir,"  said  Auguste,  "you  must  not  judge 
badly  of  the  Faubourg.  As  my  friend  has  said,  it  will 
perhaps  not  be  the  first  to  begin  ;  but  if  there  is  a  rising 
it  will  rise." 

I  exclaimed,  "  And  who  would  you  have  erect  if  the 
Faubourg  St.  Antoine  be  prostrate !  Who  will  be  alive  if 
the  people  be  dead !  " 

The  engineer  went  to  the  street  door,  made  certain  that 
it  was  well  shut,  then  came  back,  and  said, — 

"There  are  many  men  ready  and  willing.  It  is  the 
leaders  who  are  wanting.  Listen,  Citizen  Victor  Hugo, 
I  can  say  this  to  you,  and,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice, 
"  I  hope  for  a  movement  to-night." 

"Where?" 

"  On  the  Faubourg  St.  Marceau." 

"  At  what  time  ?  " 

"  At  one  o'clock." 

"  How  do  you  know  it?" 

"  Because  I  shall  be  there." 

He  continued :  "  Now,  Citizen  Victor  Hugo,,  if  a  move- 
ment takes  place  to-night  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Marceau, 
will  you  head  it ?    Do  you  consent? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Have  you  your  scarf  of  office  ?  " 

I  half  drew  it  out  of  my  pocket.  His  eyes  glistened 
with  joy. 

"Excellent,"  said  he.  "The  Citizen  has  his  pistols, 
the  Representative  his  scarf.    All  are  armed." 

I  questioned  him.  "  Are  you  sure  of  your  movememt 
for  to-night?" 

He  answered  me,  "We  have  prepared  it,  and  we  reckon 
to  be  there." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  I,  "  as  soon  as  the  first  barricade  is 
constructed  I  will  be  behind  it.     Come  and  fetch  me." 

"Where?" 

"Wherever  I  may  be." 


126  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

He  assured  me  that  if  the  movement  should  take  place 
during  the  night  he  would  know  it  at  half-past  ten  that 
evening  at  the  latest,  and  that  I  should  be  informed  of  it 
before  eleven  o'clock.  We  settled  that  in  whatever  place 
I  might  be  at  that  hour  I  would  send  word  to  Auguste, 
who  undertook  to  let  him  know. 

The  young  woman  continued  to  peep  out  at  us.  The 
conversation  was  growing  prolonged,  and  might  seem 
singular  to  the  people  in  the  parlor.  "  I  am  going,"  said 
I  to  Auguste. 

I  had  opened  the  door,  he  took  my  hand,  pressed  it  as 
a  woman  might  have  done,  and  said  to  me  in  a  deeply- 
moved  tone,  "  You  are  going :  will  you  come  back  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  he.  "  No  one  knows  what  is  going  to 
happen.  Well,  you  are  perhaps  going  to  be  hunted  and 
sought  for  as  I  have  been.  It  will  perhaps  be  your  turn 
to  be  shot,  and  mine  to  save  you.  You  know  the  mouse 
may  sometimes  prove  useful  to  the  lion.  Monsieur  Victor 
Hugo,  if  you  need  a  refuge,  this  house  is  yours.  Come 
here.  You  will  find  a  bed  where  you  can  sleep,  and  a 
man  who  will  lay  down  his  life  for  you." 

I  thanked  him  by  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand,  and  I 
left.  Eight  o'clock  struck.  I  hastened  towards  the  Rue 
de  Charonne. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    REPRESENTATIVES    HUNTED    DOWN". 

At  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  Faubourg  St.  Antoine 
before  the  shop  of  the  grocer  Pepin,  on  the  same  spot 
where  the  immense  barricade  of  June,  1848,  was  erected 
as  high  as  the  second  story,  the  decrees  of  the  morning 
had  been  placarded.  Some  men  were  inspecting  them, 
although  it  was  pitch  dark,  and  they  could  not  read  them, 
and  an  old  woman  said,  "  The  '  Twenty-five  francs '  are 
crushed — so  much  the  better  !  " 

A  few  steps  further  I  heard  my  name  pronounced.  I 
turned  round.  It  was  Jules  Favre,  Bourzat,  Lafon, 
Madier  de  Montjau,  and  Michel  de  Bourges,  who  were 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  127 

passing  by.  I  took  leave  of  the  brave  and  devoted  woman 
who  had  insisted  upon  accompanying  me.  A  fiacre  was 
passing.  I  put  her  in  it,  and  then  rejoined  the  five  Rep 
resentatives.  They  had  come  from  the  Hue  de  Charonne. 
They  had  found  the  premises  of  the  Society  of  Cabinet 
Makers  closed.  "There  was  no  one  there,"  said  Madier 
de  Montjau.  "These  worthy  people  are  beginning  to  get 
together  a  little  capital,  they  do  not  wish  to  compromise 
it,  they  are  afraid  of  us.  They  say,  '  cotqis  tVttat  are  noth- 
ing to  us,  we  shall  leave  them  alone  ! '  " 

"  That  does  not  surprise  me,"  answered  I,  "  a  society  is 
a  shopkeeper." 

"  Where  are  we  going?"  asked  Jules  Favre. 

Lafon  lived  two  steps  from  there,  at  Xo.  2,  Quai  Jem- 
mapes.  He  offered  us  the  use  of  his  rooms.  We  ac- 
cepted, and  took  the  necessary  measures  to  inform  the 
members  of  the  Left  that  we  had  gone  there. 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  we  were  installed  in  Lafon's 
rooms,  on  the  fourth  floor  of  an  old  and  lofty  house.  This 
house  had  seen  the  taking  of  the  Bastille. 

This  house  was  entered  by  a  side-door  opening  from 
the  Quai  Jemmapes  upon  a  narrow  courtyard  a  few  steps 
lower  than  the  Quai  itself.  Bourzat  remained  at  this 
door  to  warn  us  in  case  of  any  accident,  and  to  point  out 
the  house  to  those  Representatives  who  might  come  up. 

In  a  few  moments  a  large  number  of  us  had  assembled, 
and  we  again  met— all  those  of  the  morning,  with  a  few 
added.  Lafon  gave  up  his  drawing-room  to  us,  the 
windows  of  which  overlooked  the  back  yard.  We 
organized  a  sort  of  "bureau,"  and  we  took  our  places, 
Jules  Favre,  Carnot,  Michel,  and  myself,  at  a  large  table, 
lighted  by  two  candles,  and  placed  before  the  fire.  The 
Representatives  and  the  other  people  present  sat  around 
on  chairs  and  sofas.     A  group  stood  before  the  door. 

Michel  de  Bourges,  on  entering,  exclaimed,  "We  have 
come  to  seek  out  the  people  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine. 
Here  we  are.     Here  we  must  remain." 

These  words  were  applauded. 

They  set  forth  the  situation — the  torpor  of  the  Fau- 
bourgs, no  one  at  the  Society  of  Cabinet  Makers,  the  doors 
closed  nearly  everywhere.  T  told  them  what  I  had  seen 
and  heard  in  the  line  de  la  Roquetle,  the  remarks  of  the 
wine-seller,  Auguste,  on  the  indifference  of  the  people,  the 


128  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

hopes  of  the  engineer,  and  the  possibility  of  a  movement 
during  the  night  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Marceau.  It  was 
settled  that  on  the  first  notice  that  might  be  given  I 
should  go  there. 

Nevertheless  nothing  was  yet  known  of  what  had  taken 
place  during  the  day.  It  was  announced  that  M.  Havin, 
Lieutenant-Colonel  of  the  5th  Legion  of  the  National 
Guard,  had  ordered  the  officers  of  his  Legion  to  attend  a 
meeting. 

Some  Democratic  writers  came  in,  amongst  whom  were 
Alexander  Rey  and  Xavier  Durrieu,  with  Kesler,  Villiers, 
and  Amable  Lemaitre  of  the  Revolution ;  one  of  these 
writers  was  Milliere. 

Milliere  had  a  large  bleeding  wound  above  his  eye- 
brow ;  that  same  morning  on  leaving  us,  as  he  was  carry- 
ing away  one  of  the  copies  of  the  Proclamation  which  I 
had  dictated,  a  man  had  thrown  himself  upon  him  to 
snatch  it  from  him.  The  police  had  evidently  already 
been  informed  of  the  Proclamation,  and  lay  in  wait  for  it ; 
Millicre  had  a  hand-to-hand  struggle  with  the  police 
agent,  and  had  overthrown  him,  not  without  bearing 
away  this  gash.  However,  the  Proclamation  was  not  yet 
printed.  It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  and 
nothing  had  come.  Xavier  Durrieu  asserted  that  before 
another  hour  elapsed  they  should  have  the  promised  forty 
thousand  copies.  It  was  hoped  to  cover  the  walls  of 
Paris  with  them  during  the  night.  Each  of  those  present 
was  to  serve  as  a  bill-poster. 

There  were  amongst  us — an  inevitable  circumstance 
in  the  stormy  confusion  of  the  first  moments — a  good 
many  men  whom  we  did  not  know.  One  of  these  men 
brought  in  ten  or  twelve  copies  of  the  appeal  to  arms. 
He  asked  me  to  sign  them  with  my  own  hand,  in  order, 
he  said,  that  he  might  be  able  to  show  my  signature  to 
the  people — "Or  to  the  police,"  whispered  Baudin  to  me 
smiling.  We  were  not  in  a  position  to  take  such  precau- 
tions as  these.  I  gave  this  man  all  the  signatures  that  he 
wanted. 

Madier  de  Montjau  began  to  speak.  It  was  of  conse- 
quence to  organize  the  action  of  the  Left,  to  impress  the 
unity  of  impulse  upon  the  movement  which  was  being 
prepared;  to  create  a  centre  for  it,  to  give  a  pivot  to  the 
insurrection,  to  the  Left  a  direction,  and  to  the  People  a 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  129 

support.  He  proposed  the  immediate  formation  of  a 
committee  representing  the  entire  Left  in  all  its  shades, 
and  charged  with  organizing  and  directing  the  insurrec- 
tion. 

All  the  Representatives  cheered  this  eloquent  and 
courageous  man.  Seven  members  were  proposed.  They 
named  at  once  Carnot,  De  Flotte,  Jules  Favre,  Madier  de 
Montjau,  Michel  de  Bourges,  and  myself;  and  thus  was 
unanimously  formed  this  Committee  of  Insurrection, 
which  at  my  request  was  called  a  Committee  of  Resist- 
ance ;  for  it  was  Louis  Bonaparte  who  was  the  insur- 
gent. For  ourselves,  we  were  the  Republic.  It  was 
desired  that  one  workman-Representative  should  be  ad- 
mitted into  the  committee.  Faure  (du  Rhone)  was  nom- 
inated. But  Faure,  we  learned  later  on,  had  been  arrested 
that  morning.  The  committee  then  was,  in  fact,  com- 
posed of  six  members. 

The  committee  organized  itself  during  the  sitting.  A 
Committee  of  Permanency  was  formed  from  amongst  it, 
and  invested  with  the  authority  of  decreeing  "  urgency  " 
in  the  name  of  all  the  Left,  of  concentrating  all  news, 
information,  directions,  instructions,  resources,  orders. 
This  Committee  of  Permanency  was  composed  of  four 
members,  who  -were  Carnot,  Michel  de  Bourges,  Jules 
Favre,  and  myself.  De  Flotte  and  Madier  de  Montjau 
were  specially  delegated,  De  Flotte  for  the  left  bank  of 
the  river  and  the  district  of  the  schools,  Madier  for  the 
Boulevards  and  the  outskirts. 

These  preliminary  operations  being  terminated,  Lafon 
took  aside  Michel  de  Bourges  and  myself,  and  told  us 
that  the  ex-Constituent  Proudhon  had  inquired  for  one 
of  us  two,  that  he  had  remained  downstairs  nearly  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  and  that  he  had  gone  away,  saying 
that  he  would  wait  for  us  in  the  Place  de  la  Bastille. 

Proudhon,  who  was  at  that  time  undergoing  a  term  of 
three  years'  imprisonment  at  St.  Pelagie  for  an  offence 
against  Louis  Bonaparte,  was  granted  leave  of  absence 
from  time  to  time.  Chance  willed  it  that  one  of  these 
liberty  days  had  fallen  on  the  2d  of  December. 

This    is   an   incident   which   one   cannot    help   noting. 

On  t  lie  2d  of   December   Proudhon    was    a  prisoner   by 

virtue  of  a  lawful  sentence,  and  at  the  same  moment  at 

which  they  illegally  imprisoned  the  inviolable  Represent- 

9 


130  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

atives,  Proudhon,  whom  they  could  have  legitimately 
detained,  was  allowed  to  go  out.  Proudhon  had  profited 
by  his  liberty  to  come  and  find  us. 

I  knew  Proudhon  from  having  seen  him  at  the  Con- 
ciergerie,  where  my  two  sons  were  shut  up,  and  my 
two  illustrious  friends,  Auguste  Vacquerie  and  Paul 
Meurice,  and  those  gallant  writers,  Louis  Jourdan,  Erdan, 
and  Suchet.  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  on  that  day 
they  would  assuredly  not  have  given  leave  of  absence  to 
these  men. 

Meanwhile  Xavier  Durrieu  whispered  to  me,  "  I  have 
just  left  Proudhon.  He  wishes  to  see  you.  lie  is  waiting 
for  you  down  below,  close  by,  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Place.  You  will  find  him  leaning  on  the  parapet  of  the 
canal." 

"  I  am  going,"  said  I. 

I  went  downstairs. 

I  found  in  truth,  at  the  spot  mentioned,  Proudhon, 
thoughtful,  leaning  with  his  two  elbows  on  the  parapet. 
He  wore  that  broad-brimmed  hat  in  which  I  had  often 
seen  him  striding  alone  up  and  down  the  courtyard  of 
the  Conciergerie. 

I  went  up  to  him. 

"  You  wish  to  speak  to  me." 

"  Yes,"  and  he  shook  me  by  the  hand. 

The  corner  where  we  were  standing  was  lonely.  On 
the  left  there  was  the  Place  de  la  Bastille,  dark  and 
gloomy  ;  one  could  see  nothing  there,  but  one  could  feel 
a  crowd ;  regiments  were  there  in  battle  array ;  they  did  not 
bivouac,  they  Avere  ready  to  march ;  the  muffled  sound  of 
breathing  could  be  heard ;  the  square  was  full  of  that 
glistening  shower  of  pale  sparks  which  bayonets  give 
forth  at  night  time.  Above  this  abyss  of  shadows  rose 
up  black  and  stark  the  Column  of  July. 

Proudhon  resumed, — 

"  Listen.  I  come  to  give  you  a  friendly  warning.  You 
are  entertaining  illusions.  The  People  are  ensnared  in 
this  affair.  They  will  not  stir.  Bonaparte  will  carry 
them  with  him.  This  rubbish,  the  restitution  of  universal 
suffrage,  entraps  the  simpletons.  Bonaparte  passes  for  a 
Socialist.  He  has  said,  '  I  will  be  the  Emperor  of  the 
Rabble.'  It  is  a  piece  of  insolence.  But  insolence  has  a 
chance  of  success  when  it  has  this  at  its  service." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  131 

And  Proudhon  pointed  with  his  finger  to  the  sinister 
gleam  of  the  bayonets.     He  continued, — 

"  Bonaparte  has  an  object  in  view.  The  Republic  has 
made  the  People.  He  wishes  to  restore  the  Populace. 
He  will  succeed  and  you  will  fail.  He  has  on  his  side 
force,  cannons,  the  mistake  of  the  people,  and  the  folly  of 
the  Assembly.  The  few  of  the  Left  to  which  you  belong 
will  not  succeed  in  overthrowing  the  covp  cVetat.  You 
are  honest,  and  he  has  this  advantage  over  you — that  he 
is  a  rogue.  You  have  scruples,  and  he  has  this  advantage 
over  you — that  he  has  none.  Believe  me.  Resist  no  lon- 
ger. The  situation  is  without  resources.  We  must  wait ; 
but  at  this  moment  fighting  would  be  madness.  What 
do  you  hope  for  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  I. 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Everything." 

By  the  tone  of  my  voice  he  understood  that  further 
persistence  was  useless. 

"  Good-bye,"  he  said. 

We  parted.  He  disappeared  in  the  darkness.  I  have 
never  seen  him  since. 

I  went  up  again  to  Lafon's  rooms. 

In  the  meantime  the  copies  of  the  appeal  to  arms  did 
not  come  to  hand.  The  Representatives,  becoming  un- 
easy, went  up  and  downstairs.  Some  of  them  went  out 
on  the  Quai  Jemmapes,  to  wait  there  and  gain  informa- 
tion about  them.  In  the  room  there  was  a  sound  of  con- 
fused talking,  the  members  of  the  Committee,  Madier 
de  Montjau,  Jules  Favre,  and  Carnot,  withdrew,  and  sent 
word  to  me  by  Charamaule  that  they  were  going  to  No. 
10,  Rue  des  Moulins,  to  the  house  of  the  ex-Constituent 
Landrin,  in  the  division  of  the  5th  Legion,  to  deliberate 
more  at  their  ease,  and  they  begged  me  to  join  them.  But 
I  thought  I  should  do  better  to  remain.  I  had  placed 
myself  at  the  disposal  of  the  probable  movement  of  the 
Faubourg  St.  Marceau.  I  awaited  the  notice  of  it  through 
Auguste.  It  was  most  important  that  I  should  not  go  too 
faraway;  besides,  it  was  possible  that  if  1  went  away, 
the  Representatives  of  the  Left,  no  longing  seeing  a 
member  of  the  committee  amongst  them,  would  disperse 
without  taking  any  resolution,  and  I  saw  in  this  more 
than  one  disadvantage. 


132  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Time  passed,  no  Proclamations.  We  learned  the  next 
day  that  the  packages  had  been  seized  by  the  police. 
Cournet,  an  ex-Republican  naval  officer  who  was  present, 
began  to  speak.  We  shall  see  presently  what  sort  of  a 
man  Cournet  was,  and  of  what  an  energetic  and  deter- 
mined nature  he  was  composed.  He  represented  to  us 
that  as  we  had  been  there  nearly  two  hours  the  police 
would  certainly  end  by  being  informed  of  our  where- 
abouts, that  the  members  of  the  Left  had  an  imperative 
duty — to  keep  themselves  at  all  costs  at  the  head  of  the 
People,  that  the  necessity  itself  of  their  situation  imposed 
upon  them  the  precaution  of  frequently  changing  their 
place  of  retreat,  and  he  ended  by  offering  us,  for  our 
deliberation,  his  house  and  his  workshops,  No.  82,  Rue 
Popincourt,  at  the  bottom  of  a  blind  alley,  and  also  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine. 

This  offer  was  accepted.  I  sent  to  inform  Auguste  of 
our  change  of  abode,  and  of  Cournet's  address.  Lafon  re- 
mained on  the  Quai  Jemmapes  in  order  to  forward  on  the 
Proclamations  as  soon  as  they  arrived,  and  we  set  out  at 
once. 

Charamaule  undertook  to  send  to  the  Rue  des  Moulins 
to  tell  the  other  members  of  the  committee  that  we  would 
wait  for  them  at  No.  82,  Rue  Popincourt. 

We  walked,  as  in  the  morning,  in  little  separate  groups. 
The  Quai  Jemmapes  skirts  the  left  bank  of  the  St.  Martin 
Canal ;  we  went  up  it.  We  only  met  a  few  solitary  work- 
men, who  looked  back  when  we  had  passed,  and  stopped 
behind  us  with  an  air  of  astonishment.  The  night  was 
dark.     A  few  drops  of  rain  were  falling. 

A  little  beyond  the  Rue  de  Chemin  Vert  we  turned  to 
the  right  and  reached  the  Rue  Popincourt.  There  all  was 
deserted,  extinguished,  closed,  and  silent,  as  in  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Antoine.  This  street  is  of  great  length.  We 
walked  for  a  long  time;  we  passed  by  the  barracks. 
Cournet  was  no  longer  with  us  ;  he  had  remained  behind 
to  inform  some  of  his  friends,  and  we  were  told  to  take 
defensive  measures  in  case  his  house  was  attacked.  We 
looked  for  No.  82.  The  darkness  was  such  that  we  could 
not  distinguish  the  numbers  on  the  houses.  At  length, 
at  the  end  of  the  street,  on  the  right,  we  saw  a  light ;  it 
was  a  grocer's  shop,  the  only  one  open  throughout  the 
street.     One  of  us  entered,  and  asked  the  grocer,  who  was 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  133 

sitting  behind  his  counter,  to  show  us  M.  Cournet's 
house.  "  Opposite,"  said  the  grocer,  pointing  to  an  old 
and  low  carriage  entrance  which  could  be  seen  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street,  almost  facing  his  shop. 

We  knocked  at  this  door.  It  was  opened.  Baudin 
entered  first,  tapped  at  the  window  of  the  porter's  lodge, 
and  asked  "  Monsieur  Cournet  ?  " — An  old  woman's  voice 
answered,  "  Here." 

The  portress  was  in  bed;  all  in  the  house  sleeping. 
We  went  in. 

Having  entered,  and  the  gate  being  shut  behind  us,  we 
found  ourselves  in  a  little  square  courtyard  which  formed 
the  centre  of  a  sort  of  a  two-storied  ruin ;  the  silence  of  a 
convent  prevailed,  not  a  light  was  to  be  seen  at  the  win- 
dows ;  near  a  shed  was  seen  a  low  entrance  to  a  narrow, 
dark,  and  winding  staircase.  "  We  have  made  some 
mistake,"  said  Charamaule  ;  "it  is  impossible  that  it  can 
be  here." 

Meanwhile  the  portress,  hearing  all  these  trampling 
steps  beneath  her  doorway,  had  become  wide  awake,  had 
lighted  her  lamp,  and  we  could  see  her  in  her  lodge,  her 
face  pressed  against  the  window,  gazing  with  alarm  at 
sixty  dark  phantoms,  motionless,  and  standing  in  her 
courtyard. 

Esquiros  addressed  her :  "  Is  this  really  M.  Cournet's 
house?"  said  he. 

"  M.  Cornet,  without  doubt,"  answered  the  good  woman. 

All  was  explained.  We  had  asked  for  Cournet,  the 
grocer  had  understood  Cornet,  the  portress  had  under- 
stood Cornet.     It  chanced  that  M.  Cornet  lived  there. 

We  shall  see  by  and  by  what  an  extraordinary  service 
chance  had  rendered  us. 

We  went  out,  to  the  great  relief  of  the  poor  portr.ess, 
and  we  resumed  our  search.  Xavier  Durrieu  succeeded 
in  ascertaining  our  whereabouts,  and  extricated  us  from 
our  difficulty. 

A  few  moments  afterwards  we  turned  to  the  left,  and 
we  entered  into  a  blind  alley  of  considerable  length  and 
dimly  lighted  by  an  old  oil  lamp— one  of  those  with 
which  Paris  was  formerly  lighted— then  again  to  the  left, 
and  we  entered  through  a  narrow  passage  into  a  large 
courtyard  encumbered  with  sheds  and  building  materials. 
This  time  we  had  reached  Cournet's. 


134  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

0XE   FOOT   IIST   THE    TOMB. 

Cofknet  was  waiting  for  us.  He  received  us  on  the 
ground  floor,  in  a  parlor  where  there  was  a  fire,  a  table, 
and  some  chairs ;  but  the  room  was  so  small  that  a  quarter 
of  us  filled  it  to  overflowing,  and  the  others  remained  in 
the  courtyard.  "  It  is  impossible  to  deliberate  here," 
said  Bancel.  "  I  have  a  larger  room  on  the  first  floor," 
answered  Cournet,  "  but  it  is  a  building  in  course  of  con- 
struction, which  is  not  yet  furnished,  and  where  there  is  no 
fire." — What  does  it  matter  ?  "  they  answered  him.  "  Let 
us  go  up  to  the  first  floor." 

We  went  up  to  the  first  floor  by  a  steep  and  narrow 
wooden  staircase,  and  we  took  possession  of  two  rooms 
with  very  low  ceilings,  but  of  which  one  was  sufficiently 
large.  The  walls  were  whitewashed,  and  a  few  straw- 
covered  stools  formed  the  whole  of  its  furniture. 

They  called  out  to  me,  "Preside." 

I  sat  down  on  one  of  the  stools  in  the  corner  of  the 
first  room,  with  the  fire  place  on  my  right  and  on  my  left 
the  door  opening  upon  the  staircase.  Baudin  said  to  me, 
"  I  have  a  pencil  and  paper.  I  will  act  as  secretary  to 
you."     He  sat  down  on  a  stool  next  to  me. 

The  Representatives  and  those  present,  amongst  whom 
were  several  men  in  blouses,  remained  standing,  forming 
in  front  of  Baudin  and  myself  a  sort  of  square,  backed 
by  the  two  walls  of  the  room  opposite  to  us.  This  crowd 
extended  as  far  as  the  staircase.  A  lighted  candle  was 
placed  on  the  chimney-piece. 

A  common  spirit  animated  this  meeting.  The  faces 
were  pale,  but  in  every  eye  could  be  seen  the  same  firm 
resolution.  In  all  these  shadows  glistened  the  same  flame. 
Several  simultaneously  asked  permission  to  speak.  I 
requested  them  to  give  their  names  to  Baudin,  who  wrote 
them  down,  and  then  passed  me  the  list. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  135 

The  first  speaker  was  a  workman.  lie  began  by  apologiz- 
ing for  mingling  with  the  Representatives,  he  a  stranger 
to  the  Assembly.  The  Representatives  interrupted  him. 
"  No,  no,"  they  said,  "  the  People  and  Representatives  are 
all  one !  Speak — ■ — !  "  He  declared  that  if  he  spoke  it  was 
in  order  to  clear  from  all  suspicion  the  honor  of  his 
brethren,  the  workmen  of  Paris ;  that  he  had  heard  some 
Representatives  express  doubt  about  them.  He  asserted 
that  this  was  unjust,  that  the  workmen  realized  the  whole 
crime  of  M.  Bonaparte  and  the  whole  duty  of  the  People, 
that  they  would  not  be  deaf  to  the  appeal  of  the  Re- 
publican Representatives,  and  that  this  would  be  clearly 
shown.  He  said  all  this,  simply,  with  a  sort  of  proud 
shyness  and  of  honest  bluntness.  He  kept  his  word.  I 
found  him  the  next  day  fighting  on  the  Rambuteau 
barricade. 

Mathieu  (de  la  Drome)  came  in  as  the  workman  con- 
cluded. "  I  bring  news,"  he  exclaimed.  A  profound 
silence  ensued. 

As  I  have  already  said,  we  vaguely  knew  since  the 
morning  that  the  Right  were  to  have  assembled,  and  that 
a  certain  number  of  our  friends  had  probably  taken  part 
in  the  meeting,  and  that  was  all.  Mathieu  (de  la  Drome' 
brought  us  the  events  of  the  day,  the  details  of  tin;  arrests 
at  their  own  houses  carried  out  without  any  obstacle,  of 
the  meeting  which  had  taken  place  at  M.  Darn's  house 
and  its  rough  treatment  in  the  Rue  de  Bourgogne,  of  the 
Representatives  expelled  from  the  Hall  of  the  Assembly, 
of  the  meanness  of  President  Dupin,  of  the  melting  away 
of  the  High  Court,  of  the  total  inaction  of  the  Council  of 
State,  of  the  sad  sitting  held  at  the  Mairie  of  the  Tenth 
Arrondissement,  of  the  Oudinot/z'/.sro,  of  the  decree  of  the 
deposition  of  the  President,  and  of  the  two  hundred  and 
twenty  forcibly  arrested  and  taken  to  the  Quai  d'Orsay. 
He  concluded  in  a  manly  style:  "The  duty  of  the  Left 
was  increasing  hourly.  The  morrow  would  probably  prove 
decisive."  He  implored  the  meeting  to  take  this  into 
consideration. 

A  workman  added  a  fact.  He  had  happened  in  the 
morning  to  be  in  the  Rue  de  Crenelle  during  the  passage 
of  the  arrested  members  of  the  Assembly  :  he  was  there 
at  the  moment  when  one  of  the  commanders  of  the  Chas- 
seurs de  Vincennes  had  uttered  these  words,  "  Now  it  is 


136  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

the  turn  of  those  gentlemen — the   Red  Representatives. 
Let  them  look  out  for  themselves  !  '* 

One  of  the  editors  of  the  Revolution,  Ilennett  de  Kesler, 
who  afterwards  became  an  intrepid  exile,  completed  the 
information  of  Mathieu  (de  la  Drome),  lie  recounted  the 
action  taken  by  two  members  of  the  Assembly  with  re- 
gard to  the  so-called  Minister  of  the  Interior,  ]\Iorny,  and 
the  answer  of  the  said  Morny  :  "  If  I  find  any  of  the  Rep- 
resentatives behind  the  barricades,  I  will  have  them  shot 
to  the  last  man,"  and  that  other  saying  of  the  same  witty 
vagabond  respecting  the  members  taken  to  the  Quai 
d'Orsay,  "  These  are  the  last  Representatives  who  will  be 
made  prisoners."  He  told  us  that  a  placard  was  at  that 
very  moment  being  printed  which  declared  that  "  Any 
one  who  should  be  found  at  a  secret  meeting  Mould  be 
immediately  shot."  The  placard,  in  truth,  appeared  the 
next  morning. 

Baudin  rose  up.  "  The  coup  oVitat  redoubles  its  rage," 
exclaimed  he.     "Citizens,  let  us   redouble  our  energy!" 

Suddenly  a  man  in  a  blouse  entered.  He  was  out  of 
breath.  He  had  run  hard.  He  told  us  that  he  had  just 
seen,  and  he  repeated,  had  seen  with  "  his  own  eyes,"  in 
the  Rue  Popincourt,  a  regiment  marching  in  silence,  and 
wending  its  way  towards  the  blind  alley  of  No.  82,  that 
we  were  surrounded,  and  that  we  were  about  to  be 
attacked.     He  begged  us  to  disperse  immediately. 

"  Citizen  Representatives,"  called  out  Cournet,  "  I 
have  placed  scouts  in  the  blind  alley  who  will  fall  back, 
and  warn  us  if  the  regiment  penetrates  thither.  The  door 
is  narrow  and  will  be  barricaded  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  We  are  here,  with  you,  fifty  armed  and  resolute 
men,  and  at  the  first  shot  we  shall  be  two  hundred.  We 
are  provided  with  ammunition.  You  can  deliberate 
calmly." 

And  as  he  concluded  he  raised  his  right  arm,  and  from 
his  sleeve  fell  a  large  poniard,  which  he  had  concealed, 
and  with  the  other  hand  he  rattled  in  his  pocket  the  butts 
of  a  pair  of  pistols. 

"  Very  well,"  said  I,  "  let  us  continue." 

Three  of  the  youngest  and  most  eloquent  orators  of  the 
Left,  Bancel,  Arnauld  (de  l'Ariege)  and  Victor  Chauffour 
delivered  their  opinions  in  succession.  All  three  were 
imbued  with  this  notion,  that  our  appeal  to  arms  not  hav- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  137 

ing  yet  been  placarded,  the  different  incidents  of  the  Bou- 
levard du  Temple  and  of  the  Cafe  Bon  valet  having  brought 
about  no  results,  none  of  our  decrees,  owing  to  the  re- 
pressive measures  of  Bonaparte,  having  yet  succeeded  in 
appearing,  while  the  events  at  the  Mairie  of  the  Tenth  Ar- 
rondissement  began  to  be  spread  abroad  through  Paris, 
it  seemed  as  though  the  Right  had  commenced  active  re- 
sistance before  the  Left.  A  generous  rivalry  for  the  pub- 
lic safety  spurred  them  on.  It  was  delightful  to  them 
to  know  that  a  regiment  ready  to  attack  was  close  by, 
within  a  few  steps,  and  that  perhaps  in  a  few  moments 
their  blood  would  flow. 

Moreover,  advice  abounded,  and  with  advice,  uncer- 
tainty. Some  illusions  were  still  entertained.  A  work- 
man, leaning  close  to  me  against  the  fireplace,  said  in  a 
low  voice  to  one  of  his  comrades  that  the  People  must  not 
be  reckoned  upon,  and  that  if  we  fought  "  We  should  per- 
petrate a  madness." 

The  incidents  and  events  of  the  day  had  in  some  degree 
modified  my  opinion  as  to  the  course  to  be  followed  in 
this  grave  crisis.  The  silence  of  the  crowd  at  the  mo- 
ment when  Arnauld  (de  PAriege)and  I  had  apostrophized 
the  troops,  had  destroyed  the  impression  which  a  few 
hours  before  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people  on  the  Boule- 
vard du  Temple  had  left  with  me.  The  hesitation  of 
Auguste  had  impressed  me,  the  Society  of  Cabinet  Makers 
appeared  to  shun  us,  the  torpor  of  the  Faubourg  St.  An- 
toine  was  manifest,  the  inertness  of  the  Faubourg  St. 
Marceau  was  not  less  so.  I  ought  to  have  received  notice 
from  the  engineer  before  eleven  o'clock,  and  eleven  o'clock 
was  past.  Our  hopes  died  away  one  after  another.  Nev- 
ertheless, all  the  more  reason,  in  my  opinion,  to  astonish 
and  awaken  Paris  by  an  extraordinary  spectacle,  by  a  dar- 
ing act  of  life  and  collective  power  on  the  part  of  the 
Representatives  of  the  Left,  by  the  daring  of  an  immense 
devotion. 

It  will  be  seen  later  on  what  a  combination  of  accidental 
circumstances  prevented  this  idea  from  being  realized  as 
I  then  purposed.  The  Representatives  have  done  their 
whole  duty.  Providence  perhaps  has  not  done  all  on  its 
side.  Be  it  as  it  may,  supposing  that  we  were  not  at 
once  carried  off  by  some  nocturnal  and  immediate  combat, 
and  that  at  the  hour  at  which  I  was  speaking  we  had  still 


138  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

a  "  to-morrow,"  I  felt  the  necessity  of  fixing  every  eye 
upon  the  course  which  should  he  adopted  on  the  day 
which  was  about  to  follow. — I  spoke. 

I  began  by  completely  unveiling  the  situation.  I 
painted  the  picture  in  four  words :  the  Constitution 
thrown  into  the  gutter ;  the  Assembly  driven  to  prison 
with  the  butt-end  of  a  musket,  the  Council  of  State  dis- 
persed ;  the  High  Court  expelled  by  a  galley-sergeant,  a 
manifest  beginning  of  victory  for  Louis  Bonaparte,  Paris 
ensnared  in  the  army  as  though  in  a  net ;  bewilderment 
everywhere,  all  authority  overthrown;  all  compacts  an- 
nulled ;  two  things  only  remained  standing,  the  coup 
d'etat  and  ourselves. 

"  Ourselves  !  and  who  are  we?" 

"  We  are,"  said  I,  "  we  are  Truth  and  Justice !  We  are 
the  supreme  and  sovereign  power,  the  People  incarnate 
—Right !  " 

I  continued, — 

"  Louis  Bonaparte  at  every  minute  which  elapses  ad- 
vances a  step  further  in  his  crime.  For  him  nothing  is 
inviolable,  nothing  is  sacred ;  this  morning  he  violated 
the  Palace  of  the  Representatives  of  the  Nation,  a  few 
hours  later  he  laid  violent  hands  on  their  persons ;  to- 
morrow, perhaps  in  a  few  moments,  he  will  shed  their 
blood.  Well  then !  he  marches  upon  us,  let  us  march 
upon  him.  The  danger  grows  greater,  let  us  grow  greater 
with  the  danger." 

A  movement  of  assent  passed  through  the  Assembly. 
I  continued, — 

"  I  repeat  and  insist.  Let  us  show  no  mercy  to  this 
wretched  Bonaparte  for  any  of  the  enormities  which  his 
outrage  contains.  As  he  has  drawn  the  wine — I  should 
say  the  blood — he  must  drink  it  up.  We  are  not  indi- 
viduals, we  are  the  Nation.  Each  of  us  walks  forth 
clothed  with  the  Sovereignty  of  the  people.  lie  can- 
not strike  our  persons  without  rending  that.  Let  us 
compel  his  volleys  to  pierce  our  sashes  as  well  as  our 
breasts.  This  man  is  on  a  road  where  logic  grasps  him 
and  leads  him  to  parricide.  What  he  is  killing  in  this 
moment  is  the  country !  Well,  then  !  when  the  ball  of 
Executive  Power  pierces  the  sash  of  Legislative  Power, 
it  is  visible  parricide !  It  is  this  that  must  be  under- 
stood ! " 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  139 

"  We  are  quite  ready  !  "  they  cried  out.  "  What  meas- 
ures would  you  advise  us  to  adopt?" 

"  No  half  measures,"  answered  I ;  "  a  deed  of  grandeur ! 
To-morrow — if  we  leave  here  this  night — let  us  all  meet 
in  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine." 

They  interposed,  "Why  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine?" 

"Yes,"  resumed  I,  "the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine!  I  can- 
not believe  that  the  heart  of  the  People  has  ceased  to  beat 
there.  Let  us  all  meet  to-morrow  in  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine.  Opposite  the  Lenoir  Market  there  is  a  hall 
which  was  used  by  a  club  in  1848." 

They  cried  out  to  me,  "  The  Salle  Roysin." 

"  That  is  it,"  said  I,  "  the  Salle  Roysin.  We  who  re- 
main free  number  a  hundred  and  twenty  Republican  Rep- 
resentatives. Let  us  install  ourselves  in  this  hall.  Let 
us  install  ourselves  in  the  fulness  and  majesty  of  the  Leg- 
islative Power.  Henceforward  we  are  the  Assembly, 
the  whole  of  the  Assembly  !  Let  us  sit  there,  deliberate 
there,  in  our  official  sashes,  in  the  midst  of  the  People. 
Let  us  summon  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine  to  its  duty,  let 
us  shelter  there  the  National  Representation,  let  us  shel- 
ter there  the  popular  sovereignty.  Let  us  intrust  the 
People  to  the  keeping  of  the  People.  Let  us  adjure  them 
to  protect  themselves.     If  necessary,  let  us  order  them  ! " 

A  voice  interrupted  me :  "  You  cannot  give  orders  to 
the  People !  " 

"  Yes !  "  I  cried,  "  When  it  is  a  question  of  public  safety, 
of  the  universal  safety,  when  it  is  a  question  of  the  future 
of  every  Furopean  nationality,  when  it  is  a  question  of 
defending  the  Republic,  Liberty,  Civilization,  the  Revolu- 
tion, we  have  the  right — we,  the  Representatives  of  the 
entire  nation — to  give,  in  the  name  of  the  French  people, 
orders  to  the  people  of  Paris  !  Let  us,  therefore,  meet  to- 
morrow at  this  Salle  Roysin ;  but  at  what  time  ?  Not 
too  early  in  the  morning.  In  broad  day.  It  is  neces- 
sary that  the  shops  should  lie  open,  that  people  should 
be  coming  and  going,  that  the  population  should  be  mov- 
ing about,  that  there  should  be  plenty  of  people  in  the 
streets,  that  they  should  see  us,  that  they  should  recog- 
nize us,  that  the  grandeur  of  our  example  should  strike 
every  eye  and  stir  every  heart.  Let  us  all  be  there  be- 
tween nine  and  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning.  If  we  cannot 
obtain  the  Salle  Roysin  we  will  take  the  first  church  at 


140  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

hand,  a  stable,  a  shed,  some  enclosure  where  we  can  de- 
liberate ;  at  need,  as  Michel  de  Bourges  has  said,  we  will 
hold  our  sittings  in  a  square  bounded  by  four  barricades. 
But  provisionally  I  suggest  the  Salle  Roy  sin.  Do  not  for- 
get that  in  such  a  crisis  there  must  be  no  vacuum  before 
the  nation.  That  alarms  it.  There  must  be  a  govern- 
ment somewhere,  and  it  must  be  known.  The  rebellion 
at  the  Ely  see,  the  Government  at  the  Faubourg  St.  An- 
toine ;  the  Left  the  Government,  the  Faubourg  St.  An- 
toine  the  citadel ;  such  are  the  ideas  which  from  to-mor- 
row we  must  impress  upon  the  mind  of  Paris.  To  the 
Salle  Roysin,  then !  Thence  in  the  midst  of  the  daunt- 
less throng  of  workmen  of  that  great  district  of  Paris, 
enclosed  in  the  Faubourg  as  in  a  fortress,  being  both 
Legislators  and  Generals,  multiplying  and  inventing 
means  of  defence  and  of  attack,  launching  Proclamations 
and  unearthing  the  pavements,  employing  the  women  in 
writing  out  placards  while  the  men  are  righting,  we  will 
issue  a  warrant  against  Louis  Bonaparte,  we  will  issue 
warrants  against  his  accomplices,  we  will  declare  the 
military  chiefs  traitors,  we  will  outlaw  in  a  body  all 
the  crime  and  all  the  criminals,  we  will  summon  the 
citizens  to  arms,  we  will  recall  the  army  to  duty,  we  will 
rise  up  before  Louis  Bonaparte,  terrible  as  the  living  Re- 
public, we  will  fight  on  the  one  hand  with  the  power  of 
the  Law,  and  on  the  other  with  the  power  of  the  People, 
we  will  overwhelm  this  miserable  rebel,  and  will  rise  up 
above  his  head  both  as  a  great  Lawful  Power  and  a  great 
Revolutionary  Power ! " 

While  speaking  I  became  intoxicated  with  my  own 
ideas.  My  enthusiasm  communicated  itself  to  the  meet- 
ing. They  cheered  me.  I  saw  that  I  was  becoming  some- 
what too  hopeful,  that  I  allowed  myself  to  be  carried 
away,  and  that  I  carried  them  away,  that  I  presented  to 
them  success  as  possible,  as  even  easy,  at  a  moment  when 
it  was  important  that  no  one  should  entertain  an  illusion. 
The  truth  was  gloomy,  and  it  was  my  duty  to  tell  it.  I 
let  silence  be  re-established,  and  I  signed  with  my  hand 
that  I  had  a  last  word  to  say.  I  then  resumed,  lowering 
my  voice, — 

"  Listen,  calculate  carefully  what  you  are  doing.  On 
one  side  a  hundred  thousand  men,  seventeen  harnessed 
batteries,  six  thousand  cannon-mouths  in  the  forts,  mag- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  141 

azines,  arsenals,  ammunition  sufficient  to  carry  out  a 
Russian  campaign ;  on  the  other  a  hundred  and  twenty 
Representatives,  a  thousand  or  twelve  hundred  patriots, 
six  hundred  muskets,  two  cartridges  per  man,  not  a  drum 
to  beat  to  arms,  not  a  bell  to  sound  the  tocsin,  not  a  print- 
ing office  to  print  a  Proclamation ;  barely  here  and  there 
a  lithographic  press,  and  a  cellar  where  a  hand-bill  can  be 
hurriedly  and  furtively  printed  with  the  brush ;  the 
penalty  of  death  against  any  one  who  unearths  a  paving 
stone,  penalty  of  death  against  any  one  who  would  enlist 
in  our  ranks,  penalty  of  death  against  any  one  who  is 
found  in  a  secret  meeting,  penalty  of  death  against  any 
one  who  shall  post  up  an  appeal  to  arms  ;  if  you  are  taken 
during  the  combat,  death ;  if  you  are  taken  after  the 
combat,  transportation  or  exile ;  on  the  one  side  an  army 
and  a  Crime ;  on  the  other  a  handful  of  men  and  Right. 
Such  is  this  struggle.     Do  you  accept  it  ?  " 

A  unanimous  shout  answered  me,  "  Yes !  yes  !  " 

This  shout  did  not  come  from  the  mouths,  it  came  from 
the  souls.  Baudin,  still  seated  next  to  me,  pressed  my 
hand  in  silence. 

It  was  settled  therefore  at  once  that  they  should  meet 
again  on  the  next  day,  Wednesday,  between  nine  and  ten 
in  the  morning,  at  the  Salle  Roysin,  that  they  should  arrive 
singly  or  by  little  separate  groups,  and  that  they  should 
let  those  who  were  absent  know  of  this  rendezvous.  This 
done,  there  remained  nothing  more  but  to  separate.  It 
was  about  midnight. 

One  of  Cournet's  scouts  entered.  "  Citizen  Representa- 
tives," he  said,  "  the  regiment  is  no  longer  there.  The 
street  is  free." 

The  regiment,  which  had  probably  come  from  the  Pop- 
incourt  barracks  close  at  hand,  had  occupied  the  street 
opposite  the  blind  alley  for  more  than  half  an  hour,  and 
then  had  returned  to  the  barracks.  Had  they  judged  the 
attack  inopportune  or  dangerous  at  night  in  that  narrow 
blind  alley,  and  in  the  centre  of  this  formidable  Popin- 
court  district,  where  the  insurrection  had  so  long  held  its 
own  in  June,  1848?  It  appeared  certain  that  the  soldiers 
had  searched  several  houses  in  the  neighborhood.  Ac- 
cording to  details  which  we  learned  subsequently,  we 
were  followed  after  leaving  Xo.  -J,  Quai  Jemmapes,  by  an 
agent  of  police,  who   saw   us  enter   the  house  where    a 


142  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

M.  Cornet  was  lodging,  and  who  at  once  proceeded  to  the 
Prefecture  to  denounce  our  place  of  refuge  to  his  chiefs. 
The  regiment  sent  to  arrest  us  surrounded  the  house, 
ransacked  it  from  attic  to  cellar,  found  nothing,  and 
went  away. 

This  quasi-synonym  of  Cornet  and  Cournet  had  misled 
the  bloodhounds  of  the  coiq)  d'etat.  Chance,  we  see,  had 
interposed  usefully  in  our  affairs. 

I  was  talking  at  the  door  with  Baudin,  and  we  were 
making  some  last  arrangements,  when  a  young  man  with 
a  chestnut  beard,  dressed  like  a  man  of  fashion,  and  pos- 
sessing all  the  manners  of  one,  and  whom  I  had  noticed 
while  speaking,  came  up  to  me. 

"  Monsieur  Victor  Hugo,"  said  he,  "  where  are  you  going 
to  sleep  ?  " 

Up  to  that  moment  I  had  not  thought  of  this. 

It  was  far  from  prudent  to  go  home. 

"  In  truth,"  I  answered,  "  I  have  not  the  least  idea." 

"  "Will  you  come  to  my  house  ?  " 

"I  shall  be  very  happy." 

He  told  me  his  name.     It  was  M.   delaR .  He  knew 

my  brother  Abel's  wife  and  family,  the  Montferriers,  re- 
lations of  the  Chambaceres,  and  he  lived  in  the  Rue 
Caumartin.  He  had  been  a  Prefect  under  the  Provisional 
Government.  There  was  a  carriage  in  waiting.  We  got 
in,  and  as  Baudin  told  me  that  he  would  pass  the  night 

at  Cournet's,  I  gave  him  the  address  of  M.  de  la  R ,  so 

that  he  could  send  for  me  if  any  notice  of  the  movement 
came  from  the  Faubourg  St.  Marceau  or  elsewhere.  But 
I  hoped  for  nothing  more  that  night,  and  I  was  right. 

About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  the  separation  of  the 
Representatives,  and  after  we  had  left  the  Rue  Popin- 
court,  Jules  Favre,  Madier  de  Montjau,  de  Flotte,  and 
Carnot,  to  whom  we  had  sent  word  to  the  Rue  des  Moulins, 
arrived  at  Cournet's,  accompanied  by  Schcelcher,  by 
Charamaule,  by  Aubry  (du  Nord),  and  by  Bastide.  Some 
Representatives  were  still  remaining  at  Cournet's.  Sev- 
eral, like  Baudin,  were  going  to  pass  the  night  there. 
They  told  our  colleagues  what  had  been  settled  respecting 
my  proposition,  and  of  the  rendezvous  at  the  Salle  Roysin ; 
only  it  appears  that  there  was  some  doubt  regarding  the 
hour  agreed  upon,  and  that  Baudin  in  particular  did  not 
exactly  remember  it,  and  that  our  colleagues  believed 


TEE  EISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME.  143 

that  the  rendezvous,  which  had  been  fixed  for  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  was  fixed  for  eight. 

This  alteration  in  the  hour,  due  to  the  treachery  of 
memory  for  which  no  one  can  be  blamed,  prevented  the 
realization  of  the  plan  which  I  had  conceived  of  an  Assem- 
bly holding  its  sittings  in  the  Faubourg,  and  giving 
battle  to  Louis  Bonaparte,  but  gave  us  as  a  compensation 
the  heroic  exploits  of  the  Ste.  Marguerite  barricade. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    BURIAL    OF    A    GREAT    ANNIVERSARY. 

Such  was  the  first  day.  Let  us  look  at  it  steadfastly. 
It  deserves  it.  It  is  the  anniversary  of  Austerlitz ;  the 
Nephew  commemorates  the  Uncle.  Austerlitz  is  the  most 
brilliant  battle  of  History  ;  the  Xephew  set  himself  this 
problem — how  to  commit  a  baseness  equal  to  this  magnifi- 
cence.    He  succeeded. 

This  first  day,  which  will  be  followed  by  others,  is 
already  complete.  Everything  is  there.  It  is  the  most 
terrible  attempt  at  a  thrust  backwards  that  has  ever 
been  essayed.  Xever  has  such  a  crumbling  of  civilization 
been  seen.  All  that  formed  the  edifice  is  now  a  ruin  ; 
the  soil  is  strewn  with  the  fragments.  In  one  night  the 
inviolability  of  the  Law,  the  Right  of  the  Citizen,  the 
Dignity  of  the  Judge,  and  the  honor  of  the  Soldier  have 
disappeared.  Terrible  substitutions  have  taken  place ; 
there  was  the  oath,  there  is  pergury;  there  was  the  flag, 
there  is  a  rag ;  there  was  the  Army,  there  is  a  band  of 
brigands  ;  there  was  Justice,  there  is  treason  ;  there  was 
a  code  of  laws,  there  is  the  sabre ;  there  was  a  Govern- 
ment, there  is  a  crew  of  swindlers  ;  there  was  France, 
there  is  a  den  of  thieves.  This  called  itself  Society 
Saved. 

It  is  the  rescue  of  the  traveller  by  the  highwayman. 

France  was  passing  by,  Bonaparte  cried,  "  Stand  and 
deliver ! " 

The  hypocrisy  which  has  preceded  the  Crime,  equals  in 
deformity  the  impudence  which  has  followed  it.  The 
nation  was  trustful  and  calm.     There  was  a  sudden  and 


144  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

cynical  shock.  History  has  recorded  nothing  equal  to  the 
Second  of  December.  Here  there  was  no  glory,  nothing 
but  meanness.  No  deceptive  picture.  He  could  have 
declared  himself  honest;  he  declares  himself  infamous; 
nothing  more  simple.  This  day,  almost  unintelligible  in 
its  success,  has  proved  that  Politics  possess  their  obscene 
side.     Louis  Bonaparte  has  shown  himself  unmasked. 

Yesterday  President  of  the  Pepublic,  to-day  a  scaven- 
ger. He  has  sworn,  he  still  swears :  but  the  tone  has 
changed.  The  oath  has  become  an  imprecation.  Yester- 
day he  called  himself  a  maiden,  to-day  he  becomes  a 
brazen  woman,  and  laughs  at  his  dupes.  Picture  to 
yourself  Joan  of  Arc  confessing  herself  to  be  Messalina. 
Such  is  the  Second  of  December. 

Women  are  mixed  up  in  this  treason.  It  is  an  outrage 
which  savors  both  of  the  boudoir  and  of  the  galleys. 
There  wafts  across  the  fetidness  of  blood  an  undefined 
scent  of  patchouli.  The  accomplices  of  this  act  of  brigand- 
age are  most  agreeable  men — Romieu,  Morny.  Getting 
into  debt  leads  one  to  commit  crimes. 

Europe  was  astounded.  It  was  a  thunder  bolt  from  a 
thief.  It  must  be  acknowledged  that  thunder  can  fall 
into  bad  hands.  Palmerston,  that  traitor,  approved  of  it. 
Old  Metternich,  a  dreamer  in  his  villa  at  Rennweg,  shook 
his  head.  As  to  Soult,  the  man  of  Austerlitz  after  Xapo- 
leon,  he  did  what  he  ought  to  do,  on  the  very  day  of  the 
Crime  he  died.    Alas  !  and  Austerlitz  also. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  145 

THE  SECOND  DAY. 

THE  STRUGGLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THEY   COME    TO    ARREST   ME. 

Ix  order  to  reach  the  Rue  Caumartin  from  the  Rue 
Popincourt,  all  Paris  has  to  be  crossed.  We  found  a 
great  apparent  calm  everywhere.     It  was  one  o'clock  in 

the  morning  when  we  reached  M.  de  la  R 's  house. 

The  fiacre  stopped  near  a  grated  door,  which  M.  de  la 

R opened  with  a  latch-key ;  on  the  right,  under  the 

archway,   a   staircase   ascended  to  the  first  floor  of  a 

solitary  detached  building  which  M.  de  la  R inhabited, 

and  into  which  he  led  me. 

We  entered  a  little  drawing-room  very  richly  furnished, 
lighted  with  a  night-lamp,  and  separated  from  the  bed- 
room by  a  tapestry  curtain  two-thirds  drawn.  M.  de  la 
R •  went  into  the  bedroom,  and  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards came  back  again,  accompanied  by  a  charming 
woman,  pale  and  fair,  in  a  dressing-gown,  her  hair  down, 
handsome,  fresh,  bewildered,  gentle  nevertheless,  and 
looking  at  me  with  that  alarm  which  in  a  young  face 

confers  an  additional  grace.     Madame   de   la  R had 

just  been  awakened  by  her  husband.  She  remained  a 
moment  on  the  threshold  of  her  chamber,  smiling,  half 
asleep,  greatly  astonished,  somewhat  frightened,  looking 
by  turns  at  her  husband  and  at  me,  never  having  dreamed 
perhaps  what  civil  war  really  meant,  and  seeing  it  enter 
abruptly  into  her  rooms  in  the  middle  of  the  night  under 
this  disquieting  form  of  an  unknown  person  who  asks  for 
a  refuge. 

I  made  Madame  de  la  R a  thousand  apologies,  which 

she  received  with  perfect  kindness,  and  the  charming 
woman  profited  by  the  incident  to  go  and  caress  a  pretty 
10 


146  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

little  girl  of  two  years  old  who  was  sleeping  at  the  end 
of  the  room  in  her  cot,  and  the  child  whom  she  kissed 
caused  her  to  forgive  the  refugee  who  had  awakened  her. 

While  chatting  M.  de  la  R lighted  a  capital  fire  in 

the  grate,  and  his  wife,  with  a  pillow  and  cushions,  a 
hooded  cloak  belonging  to  him,  and  a  pelisse  belonging  to 
herself,  improvised  opposite  the  fire  a  bed  on  a  sofa,  some- 
what short,  and  which  we  lengthened  by  means  of  an 
arm-chair. 

During  the  deliberation  in  the  Rue  Popincourt,  at 
which  I  had  just  presided,  Baudin  had  lent  me  his  pencil 
to  jot  down  some  names.  I  still  had  this  pencil  with  me. 
I  made  use  of  it  to   write  a  letter   to  my  wife,  which 

Madame  de  la  R undertook  to  convey    herself  to 

Madame  Victor  Hugo  the  next  day.  While  emptying  my 
pockets  I  found  a  box  for  the  "  Italiens,"  which  I  offered 
to  Madame  de  la  R .  On  that  evening  (Tuesday,  De- 
cember 2d)  they  were  to  play  Hernani. 

I  looked  at  that  cot,  these  two  handsome,  happy  young 
people,  and  at  myself,  my  disordered  hair  and  clothes, 
my  boots  covered  with  mud,  gloomy  thoughts  in  my 
mind,  and  I  felt  like  an  owl  in  a  nest  of  nightingales. 

A  few  moments  afterwards  M.  and  Madame  de  la 
R had  disappeared  into  their  bedroom,  and  the  half- 
opened  curtain  was  closed.  I  stretched  myself,  fully 
dressed  as  I  was,  upon  the  sofa,  and  this  gentle  nest  dis- 
turbed by  me  subsided  into  its  graceful  silence. 

One  can  sleep  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  between  two  armies, 
but  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  between  citizens  there  can  be  no 
sleep.  I  counted  each  hour  as  it  sounded  from  a  neigh- 
boring church;  throughout  the  night  there  passed  down 
the  street,  which  was  beneath  the  windows  of  the  room 
where  I  was  lying,  carriages  which  were  fleeing  from 
Paris.  They  succeeded  each  other  rapidly  and  hurriedly, 
one  might  have  imagined  it  was  the  exit  from  a  ball.  Not 
being  able  to  sleep,  I  got  up.  I  had  slightly  parted  the 
muslin  curtains  of  a  window,  and  I  tried  to  look  outside  ; 
the  darkness  was  complete.  Xo  stars,  clouds  were  flying 
by  with  the  turbulent'  violence  of  a  winter  night.  A 
melancholy  wind  howled.  This  wind  of  clouds  resembled 
the  wind  of  events. 

I  watched  the  sleeping  baby.  T  waited  for  dawn.  It 
came.     M.  de  la  R had  explained  at  my  request  in 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  147 

what  manner  I  could  go  out  without  disturbing  any  one. 
I  kissed  the  child's  forehead,  and  left  the  room.  I  went 
downstairs,  closing  the  doors  behind  me  as  gently  as  I 

could,  so  not  to  wake  Madame  de  la  It .     I  opened  the 

iron  door  and  went  out  into  the  street.  It  was  deserted, 
the  shops  were  still  shut,  and  a  milkwoman,  with  her 
donkey  by  her  side,  was  quietly  arranging  her  cans  on 
the  pavement. 

I  have  not  seen  M.  de  la  R again.    I  learned  since 

that  he  wrote  to  me  in  my  exile,  and  that  his  letter  was 
intercepted.  He  has,  I  believe,  quitted  France.  May  this 
touching  page  convey  to  him  my  kind  remembrances. 

The  Rue  Caumartiu  leads  into  the  Rue  St.  Lazare.  I 
went  towards  it.  It  was  broad  daylight.  At  every  mo- 
ment I  was  overtaken  and  passed  by  fxicres  laden  with 
trunks  and  packages,  which  were  hastening  towards  the 
Havre  railway  station.  Passers-by  began  to  appear. 
Some  baggage  trains  were  mounting  the  Rue  St.  Lazare  at 
the  same  time  as  myself.  Opposite  No.  42,  formerly  in- 
habited by  Mdlle.  Mars,  I  saw  a  new  bill  posted  on  the 
wall.  I  went  up  to  it,  I  recognized  the  type  of  the  Na- 
tional Printing  Office,  and  I  read, 

"Composition  of  the  New  Ministry. 

"  Interior —  M.  de  Morny. 

"  War — The  General  of  Division  St.  Arnaud. 

"Foreign  Affairs — M.  de  Turgot. 

"Justice— M.  Rouher. 

"  Finance — M.  Fould. 

"Marine — M.  Ducos. 

"Public  Works— M.  Magne. 

"  Public  Instruction — M.  II.  Fortuol. 

"  Commerce — M.  Lefebre-Durufle." 

I  tore  down  the  bill,  and  threw  it  into  the  gutter !  the 
soldiers  of  the  party  who  were  leading  the  wagons 
watched  me  do  it,  and  went  their  way. 

In  the  Rue  St.  Georges,  near  a  side-door,  there  was 
another  bill.  It  was  the  "  Appeal  to  the  People."  Some 
persons  were  reading  it.  I  tore  it  down,  notwithstanding 
the  resistance  of  the  porter,  who  appeared  to  me  to  be 
entrusted  with  the  duty  of  protecting  it. 


148  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

As  I  passed  by  the  Place  Breda  some  fiacres  had  already 
arrived  there.  I  took  one.  I  was  near  home,  the  tempta- 
tion was  too  great,  I  went  there.  On  seeing  me  cross  the 
courtyard  the  porter  looked  at  me  with  a  stupefied  air.  I 
rang  the  bell.  My  servant,  Isidore,  opened  the  door,  and 
exclaimed  with  a  great  cry,  "  Ah  !  it  is  you,  sir !  They 
came  during  the  night  to  arrest  you."  I  went  into  my 
wife's  room.  She  was  in  bed,  but  not  asleep,  and  she  told 
me  what  had  happened. 

She  had  gone  to  bed  at  eleven  o'clock.  Towards  half- 
past  twelve,  during  that  species  of  drowsiness  which  re- 
sembles sleeplessness,  she  heard  men's  voices.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  Isidore  was  speaking  to  some  one  in  the  ante- 
chamber. At  first  she  did  not  take  any  notice,  and  tried 
to  go  to  sleep  again,  but  the  noise  of  voices  continued. 
She  sat  up,  and  rang  the  bell. 

Isidore  came  in.     She  asked  him, 

"  Is  any  one  there  ?" 

"  Yes,  madame." 

"Who  is  it?" 

"  A  man  who  wishes  to  speak  to  master." 

"  Your  master  is  out." 

"  That  is  what  I  have  told  him,  madame." 

"  Well,  is  not  the  gentleman  going?" 

"  No,  madame,  he  says  that  he  urgently  needs  to  speak 
to  Monsieur  Victor  Hugo,  and  that  he  will  wait  for  him." 

Isidore  had  stopped  on  the  threshold  of  the  bedroom. 
While  he  spoke  a  fat,  fresh-looking  man  in  an  overcoat, 
under  which  could  be  seen  a  black  coat,  appeared  at  the 
door  behind  him. 

Madame  Victor  Hugo  noticed  this  man,  who  was  silently 
listening. 

"  Is  it  you,  sir,  who  wish  to  speak  to  Monsieur  Victor 
Hugo?" 

"  Yes,  madame." 

"  He  is  out." 

"  I  shall  have  the  honor  of  waiting  for  him,  madame." 

"He  will  not  come  back." 

"  Nevertheless  I  must  speak  to  him." 

"  Monsieur,  if  it  is  anything  which  will  be  useful  for  him 
to  know,  you  can  confide  it  to  me  in  perfect  security,  I  will 
faithfully  tell  him." 

"  Madame,  it  is  to  himself  that  I  must  speak." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  149 

"  But  what  is  it  about  ?    Is  it  regarding  politics  ?  " 

The  man  did  not  answer." 

"  As  to  politics,"  continued  my  wife,  "  what  is  happen- 
ing?" 

"  I  believe,  madams,  that  all  is  at  an  end." 

"  In  what  sense  ?  " 

"  In  the  sense  of  the  President." 

My  wife  looked  fixedly  at  the  man,  and  said  to  him, — 

"  You  have  come  to  arrest  my  husband,  sir." 

"  It  is  true,  madame,"  answered  the  man,  opening  his 
overcoat,  which  revealed  the  sash  of  a  Commissary  of 
Police. 

He  added  after  a  pause,  "  I  am  a  Commissary  of  Police, 
and  I  am  the  bearer  of  a  warrant  to  arrest  M.  Victor 
Hugo.  I  must  institute  a  search  and  look  through  the 
house." 

"  What  is  your  name,  sir?"  asked  Madame  Victor 
Hugo. 

"  My  name  is  Hivert." 

"  You  know  the  terms  of  the  Constitution  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madam." 

"  You  know  that  the  Representatives  of  the  People  are 
inviolable ! " 

"Yes,  madame." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  she  said  coldly,  "  you  know  that  you 
are  committing  a  crime.  Days  like  this  have  a  to- 
morrow ;  proceed." 

The  Sieur  Hivert  attempted  a  few  words  of  explanation, 
or  we  should  rather  say  justification;  he  muttered  the 
word  "  conscience,"  he  stammered  the  word  "  honor." 
Madame  Victor  Hugo,  who  had  been  calm  until  then, 
could  not  help  interrupting  him  with  some  abruptness. 

"  Do  your  business,  sir,  and  do  not  argue ;  you  know 
that  every  official  who  lays  a  hand  on  a  Representative  of 
the  People  commits  an  act  of  treason.  You  know  that  in 
presence  of  the  Representatives  the  President  is  only  an 
official  like  the  others,  the  chief  charged  with  carrying 
out  their  orders.  You  dare  to  come  to  arrest  a  Repre- 
sentative in  his  own  home  like  a  criminal !  There  is  in 
truth  a  criminal  here  who  ought  to  be  arrested — your- 
self!" 

The  Sieur  Hivert  looked  sheepish  and  left  the  room,  and 
through  the  half-open  door  my  wife  could  see,  behind  the 


150  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

well-fed,  well-clothed,  and  bald  Commissary,  seven  or 
eight  poor  raw-boned  devils,  wearing  dirty  coats  which 
reached  to  their  feet,  and  shocking  old  hats  jammed  down 
over  their  eyes — wolves  led  by  a  dog.  They  examined 
the  room,  opened  here  and  there  a  few  cupboards,  and 
went  away — with  a  sorrowful  air — as  Isidore  said  to  me. 

The  Commissary  Ilivert,  above  all,  hung  his  head ;  he 
raised  it,  however,  for  one  moment.  Isidore,  indignant 
at  seeing  these  men  thus  hunt  for  his  master  in  every 
corner,  ventured  to  defy  them.  lie  opened  a  drawer  and 
said,  "Look  and  see  if  he  is  not  in  here  !  "  The  Commis- 
sary of  Police  darted  a  furious  glance  at  him :  "  Lackey, 
take  care !  "     The  lackey  was  himself. 

These  men  having  gone,  it  was  noticed  that  several  of 
my  papers  were  missing.  Fragments  of  manuscripts  had 
been  stolen,  amongst  others  one  dated  July,  1848,  and 
directed  against  the  military  dictatorship  of  Cavaignac, 
and  in  which  there  were  verses  written  respecting  the 
Censorship,  the  councils  of  war,  and  the  suppression  of 
the  newspapers,  and  in  particular  respecting  the  imprison- 
ment of  a  great  journalist— Emile  de  Girardin  : — 

"  .  .  .  O  honte,  un  lansquenet 
Gauche,  et  parodiant  Cesar  dont  il  herite, 
Gouverne  les  esprits  du  fond  de  sa  guerite  !" 

These  manuscripts  are  lost. 

The  police  might  come  back  at  any  moment,  in  fact 
they  did  come  back  a  few  minutes  after  I  had  left.  I 
kissed  my  wife ;  I  would  not  wake  my  daughter,  who  had 
just  fallen  asleep,  and  I  went  downstairs  again.  Some 
affrighted  neighbors  were  waiting  for  me  in  the  courtyard. 
I  cried  out  to  them  laughingly,  "  Xot  caught  yet ! " 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  I  reached  No.  10,  Rue 
des  Moulins.  It  was  not  then  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  thinking  that  my  colleagues  of  the  Committee  of 
Insurrection  had  passed  the  night  there,  I  thought  it 
might  be  useful  to  go  and  fetch  them,  so  that  we  might 
proceed  all  together  to  the  Salle  Roysin. 

I  found  only  Madame  Landrin  in  the  Rue  des  Moulins. 
It  was  thought  that  the  house  was  denounced  and 
watched,  and  my  colleagues  had  changed  their  quarters 
to  No.  7,  Rue  Villedo,  the  house  of  the  ex-Constituent 
Leblond,  legal  adviser  to   the   Workmen's  Association. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  151 

Jules  Favre  had  passed  the  night  there.  Madame  Landrin 
was  breakfasting.  She  offered  me  a  place  by  her  side, 
but  time  pressed.  I  carried  off  a  morsel  of  bread,  and 
left. 

At  No.  7,  Rue  Villedo,  the  maid-servant  who  opened  the 
door  to  me  ushered  me  into  a  room  where  were  Carnot, 
Michel  de  Bourges,  Jules  Favre,  and  the  master  of  the 
house,  our  former  colleague,  Constitutent  Leblond. 

"  I  have  a  carriage  downstairs,"  I  said  to  them  ;  "  the 
rendezvous  is  at  the  Salle  Roysin  in  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine ;  let  us  go." 

This,  however,  was  not  their  opinion.  According  to 
them  the  attempts  made  on  the  previous  evening  in  the 
Faubourg  St.  Antoine  had  revealed  this  portion  of  the 
situation  ;  they  sufficed  ;  it  was  useless  to  persist ;  it  was 
obvious  that  the  working-class  districts  would  not  rise; 
we  must  turn  to  the  side  of  the  tradesmen's  districts,  re- 
nounce our  attempt  to  rouse  the  extremities  of  the  city, 
and  agitate  the  centre.  We  were  the  Committee  of  Re- 
sistance, the  soul  of  the  insurrection  ;  if  we  were  to  go  to 
the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  which  was  occupied  by  a  con- 
siderable force,  we  should  give  ourselves  up  to  Louis  Bona- 
parte. They  reminded  me  of  what  I  myself  had  said  on 
the  subject  the  previous  evening  in  the  Rue  Blanche. 
We  must  immediately  organize  the  insurrection  against 
the  coup  d'etat  and  organize  it  in  practicable  districts,  that 
is  to  say,  in  the  old  labyrinths  of  the  streets  St.  Denis  and 
St.  Martin ;  we  must  draw  up  proclamations,  prepare  de- 
crees., create  some  method  of  publicity ;  they  were  waiting 
for  important  communications  from  Workmen's  Associa- 
tions and  Secret  Societies.  The  great  blow  which  I  wished 
to  strike  by  our  solemn  meeting  at  the  Salle  Roysin  would 
prove  a  failure;  they  thought  it  their  duty  to  remain 
where  they  were,  and  the  Committee  being  few  in  number, 
and  the  work  to  be  done  being  enormous,  they  begged  me 
not  to  leave  them. 

They  were  men  of  great  hearts  and  great  courage  who 
spoke  to  me;  they  were  evidently  right ;  but  for  myself  I 
could  not  fail  to  go  to  the  rendezvous  which  I  myself  had 
fixed.  All  the  reasons  which  they  had  given  me  were  good, 
nevertheless  I  could  have  opposed  some  doubts,  but  the 
discussion  would  have  taken  too  much  time,  and  the  hour 
drew  nigh.     I  did  not  make  any  objections,  and  I  went  out 


152  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

of  the  room,  making  some  excuse.  My  hat  was  in  the  ante- 
chamber, my  fiacre  was  waiting  for  me,  and  I  drove  off  to 
the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine. 

The  centre  of  Paris  seemed  to  have  retained  its  every- 
day appearance.  People  came  and  went,  bought  and  sold, 
chatted  and  laughed  as  usual.  In  the  Rue  Montorgueil  I 
heard  a  street  organ.  Only  on  nearing  the  Faubourg  St. 
Antoine  the  phenomenon  which  I  had  already  noticed  on 
the  previous  evening  became  more  and  more  apparent ; 
solitude  reigned,  and  a  certain  dreary  peacefulness. 

We  reached  the  Place  de  la  Bastille. 

My  driver  stopped. 

"  Go  on,"  I  said  to  him. 


CHAPTER  II. 

FKOM  THE  BASTILLE  TO  THE  EUE  DE  COTTE. 

The  Place  de  la  Bastille  was  at  the  same  time  empty 
and  filled.  Three  regiments  in  battle  array  were  there ; 
not  one  passer-by. 

Four  harnessed  batteries  were  drawn  up  at  the  foot  of 
the  column.  Here  and  there  knots  of  officers  talked  to- 
gether in  a  low  voice, — sinister  men. 

One  of  these  groups,  the  principal,  attracted  my  atten- 
tion. That  one  was  silent,  there  was  no  talking.  There 
were  several  men  on  horseback  ;  one  in  front  of  the  others, 
in  a  general's  uniform,  with  a  hat  surmounted  with  black 
feathers,  behind  this  man  were  two  colonels,  and  behind 
the  colonels  a  party  of  aides-de-camp  and  staff  officers. 
This  lace-trimmed  company  remained  immovable,  and  as 
though  pointing  like  a  dog  between  the  column  and  the 
entrance  to  the  Faubourg.  At  a  short  distance  from  this 
group,  spread  out,  and  occupying  the  whole  of  the  square, 
were  the  regiments  drawn  up  and  the  cannon  in  their  bat- 
teries. 

"  My  driver  again  stopped. 

"  Go  on,"  I  said ;  "  drive  into  the  Faubourg." 

"  But  they  will  prevent  us,  sir." 

"  We  shall  see." 

The  truth  was  that  they  did  not  prevent  us. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  153 

The  driver  continued  on  his  way,  but  hesitatingly,  and 
at  a  walking-  pace.  The  appearance  of  a  fiacre  in  the  square 
had  caused  some  surprise,  and  the  inhabitants  began  to 
come  out  of  their  houses.  Several  came  up  to  my  car- 
riage. 

We  passed  by  a  group  of  men  with  huge  epaulets. 
These  men,  whose  tactics  we  understood  later  on,  did  not 
even  appear  to  see  us. 

The  emotion  which  I  had  felt  on  the  previous  day  before 
a  regiment  of  cuirassiers  again  seized  me.  To  see  before 
me  the  assassins  of  the  country,  at  a  few  steps,  standing 
upright,  in  the  insolence  of  a  peaceful  triumph,  was  be- 
yond my  strength :  I  could  not  contain  myself.  I  drew 
out  my  sash.  I  held  it  in  my  hand,  and  putting  my 
arm  and  head  out  of  the  window  of  the  fiacre,  and  shak- 
ing the  sash,  I  shouted, — 

"  Soldiers !  Look  at  this  sash.  It  is  the  symbol  of  Law, 
it  is  the  National  Assembly  visible.  Where  this  sash  is 
there  is  Right.  Well,  then,  this  is  what  Right  commands 
you.  You  are  being  deceived.  Go  back  to  your  duty.  It 
is  a  Representative  of  the  People  who  is  speaking  to  you, 
and  he  who  represents  the  People  represents  the  army. 
Soldiers,  before  becoming  soldiers  you  have  been  peasants, 
you  have  been  workmen,  you  have  been  and  you  are  still 
citizens.  Citizens,  listen  to  me  when  I  speak  to  you. 
The  Law  alone  has  the  right  to  command  you.  Well,  to- 
day the  law  is  violated.  By  whom  ?  By  you.  Louis 
Bonaparte  draws  you  into  a  crime.  Soldiers,  you  who  are 
Honor,  listen  to  me,  for  I  am  Duty.  Soldiers,  Louis 
Bonaparte  assassinates  the  Republic.  Defend  it.  Louis 
Bonaparte  is  a  bandit;  all  his  accomplices  will  follow  him 
to  the  galleys.  They  are  there  already.  He  who  is  wor- 
thy of  the  galleys  is  in  the  galleys.  To  merit  fetters  is  to 
wear  them.  Look  at  that  man  who  is  at  your  head,  and 
who  dares  to  command  you.  You  take  him  for  a  general, 
he  is  a  convict." 

The  soldiers  seemed  petrified. 

Some  one  who  was  there  (I  thank  his  generous,  devoted 
spirit)  touched  my  arm,  and  whispered  in  my  ear,  "You 
will  get  yourself  shot." 

But  I  did  not  heed,  and  I  listened  to  nothing. 

I  continued,  still  waving  my  sash, — 

"You,  who   are  there,  dressed   u;>   like  a  general,  it  is 


154  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

you  to  whom  I  speak,  sir.  You  know  who  I  am,  I  am  a 
Representative  of  the  People,  and  I  know  who  you  are. 
I  have  told  you  you  are  a  criminal.  Now,  do  you  wish  to 
know  my  name?    This  is  it." 

And  I  called  out  my  name  to  him. 

And  I  added, — 

"  Now  tell  me  yours." 

He  did  not  answer. 

I  continued, — 

"  Very  well,  I  do  not  want  to  know  your  name  as  a 
general,  I  shall  know  your  number  as  a  galley  slave." 

The  man  in  the  general's  uniform  hung  ins  head,  the 
others  were  silent.  I  could  read  all  their  looks,  however, 
although  they  did  not  raise  their  eyes.  I  saw  them  cast 
down,  and  I  felt  that  they  were  furious.  I  had  an  over- 
whelming contempt  for  them,  and  I  passed  on. 

What  was  the  name  of  this  general  ?  I  did  not  know 
then,  and  I  do  not  know  now. 

One  of  the  apologies  for  the  coup  d'etat  in  relating  this 
incident,  and  characterizing  it  as  "an  insensate  and  culpa- 
ble provocation,"  states  that  "  the  moderation  shown  by 
the  military  leaders  on  this  occasion  did  honor  to  Gen- 
eral   ."     We  leave  to  the  author  of  this  panegyric  the 

responsibility  of  that  name  and  of  this  eulogium. 

I  entered  the  Rue  de  Faubourg  St.  Antoine. 

My  driver,  who  now  knew  my  name,  hesitated  no  longer, 
and  whipped  up  his  horse.  These  Paris  coachmen  are 
a  brave  and  intelligent  race. 

As  I  passed  the  first  shops  of  the  main  street  nine 
o'clock  sounded  from  the  Church  St.  Paul. 

"  Good,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  I  am  in  time." 

The  Faubourg  presented  an  extraordinary  aspect.  The 
entrance  was  guarded,  but  not  closed,  by  two  companies 
of  infantry.  Two  other  companies  were  drawn  up  in 
echelons  farther  on,  at  short  distances,  occupying  the  street, 
but  leaving  a  free  passage.  The  shops,  which  were  open 
at  the  end  of  the  Faubourg,  were  half  closed  a  hundred 
yards  farther  up.  The  inhabitants,  amongst  whom  I 
noticed  numerous  workmen  in  blouses,'were  talking  to- 
gether at  their  doors,  and  watching  the  proceedings.  I 
noticed  at  each  step  the  placards  of  the  coup  oVetat  un- 
touched. 

Beyond  the  fountain  which  stands  at  the  corner  of  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  165 

Rue  de  Charonne  the  shops  were  closed.  Two  lines  of 
soldiers  extended  on  either  side  of  the  street  of  the  Fau- 
bourg on  the  kerb  of  the  pavement ;  the  soldiers  were 
stationed  at  every  five  paces,  with  the  butts  of  their  mus- 
kets resting  on  their  hips,  their  chests  drawn  in,  their 
right  hand  on  the  trigger,  ready  to  bring  to  the  present, 
keeping  silence  in  the  attitude  of  expectation.  From 
that  point  a  piece  of  cannon  was  stationed  at  the  mouth 
of  each  of  the  side  streets  which  open  out  of  the  main 
road  of  the  Faubourg.  Occasionally  there  was  a  mortar. 
To  obtain  a  clear  idea  of  this  military  arrangement  one 
must  imagine  two  rosaries,  extending  along  the  two  sides 
of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  of  which  the  soldiers  should 
form  the  links  and  the  cannon  the  beads. 

Meanwhile  my  driver  became  uneasy.  He  turned 
round  to  me  and  said,  "  It  looks  as  though  we  should  find 
barricades  out  there,  sir  ;  shall  we  turn  back?" 

"  Keep  on,"  I  replied. 

lie  continued  to  drive  straight  on. 

Suddenly  it  became  impossible  to  do  so.  A  company  of 
infantry  ranged  three  deep  occupied  the  whole  of  the 
street  from  one  pavement  to  the  other.  On  the  right 
there  was  a  small  street.     I  said  to  the  driver, — 

"  Take  that  turning." 

He  turned  to  the  right  and  then  to  the  left.  We  turned 
into  a  labyrinth  of  streets. 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  shot. 

The  driver  asked  me, — 

"  Which  way  are  we  to  go,  sir?" 

"  In  the  direction  in  which  you  hear  the  shots." 

We  were  in  a  narrow  street ;  on  my  left  I  saw  the  in- 
scription above  a  door,  "  Grand  Lavoir,"  and  on  my  right 
a  square  with  a  central  building,  which  looked  like  a 
market.  The  square  and  the  street  were  deserted.  I 
asked  the  driver, — 

"  What  street  are  we  in?" 

"In  the  Rue  de  Cotte." 

"  Where  is  the  Cafe  Roysin?" 

"  Straight  before  us." 

"Drive  there." 

lie  drove  on,  but  slowly.  There  was  another  explosion, 
this  time  close  by  us,  the  end  of  the  street  became  filled 
with  smoke;  at   the   moment  we  were  passing  Xo.  22, 


156  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

which  has  a  side-door  above  which  I  read,  "Petit  La- 
voir." 

Suddenly  a  voice  called  out  to  the  driver,  "  Stop  ! " 

The  driver  pulled  up,  and  the  window  of  the  fiacre  be- 
ing down,  a  hand  was  stretched  towards  mine.  I  recog- 
nized Alexander  Rey. 

This  daring  man  was  pale. 

"  Go  no  further,"  said  he  ;  "  all  is  at  an  end." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  all  at  an  end  ?  " 

"  Yes,  they  must  have  anticipated  the  time  appointed  ; 
the  barricade  is  taken :  I  have  just  come  from  it.  It  is  a 
few  steps  from  here  straight  before  us." 

And  he  added, — 

"  Baudin  is  killed." 

The  smoke  rolled  away  from  the  end  of  the  street. 

"  Look,"  said  Alexander  Rey  to  me. 

I  saw,  a  hundred  steps  before  us,  at  the  junction  of  the 
Rue  de  Cotte  and  the  Rue  Ste.  Marguerite,  a  low  barri- 
cade which  the  soldiers  were  pulling  down.  A  corpse 
was  being  borne  away. 

It  was  Baudin. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    ST.    ANTOINE    BARRICADE. 

This  is  what  had  happened. 

During  that  same  night,  and  as  early  as  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  De  Flotte  was  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine. 
He  was  anxious,  in  case  any  movement  took  place  before 
daylight,  that  a  Representative  of  the  People  should  be 
present,  and  he  was  one  of  those  who,  when  the  glorious 
insurrection  of  Right  should  burst  forth,  wished  to  un- 
earth the  paving-stones  for  the  first  barricade. 

But  nothing  was  stirring.  De  Flotte,  alone  in  the  midst 
of  this  deserted  and  sleeping  Faubourg,  wandered  from 
street  to  street  throughout  the  night. 

Day  breaks  late  in  December.  Before  the  first  streaks 
of  dawn  De  Flotte  was  at  the  rendezvous  opposite  the 
Lenoir  Market. 

This  spot  was  only  weakly  guarded.  The  only  troops 
in  the  neighborhood  were  the  post  itself  of  the  Lenoir 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  157 

Market,  and  another  post  at  a  short  distance  which  occu- 
pied the  guard-house  at  the  corner  of  the  Faubourg  and 
the  Rue  de  Montreuil,  close  to  the  old  Tree  of  Liberty 
planted  in  1793  by  Santerre.  Neither  of  these  posts  were 
commanded  by  officers. 

De  Flotte  reconnoitred  the  position.  He  walked  some 
time  up  and  down  the  pavement,  and  then  seeing  no  one 
coming  as  yet,  and  fearing  to  excite  attention,  he  went 
away,  and  returned  to  the  side-streets  of  the  Faubourg. 

For  his  part  Aubry  (du  Nord)  got  up  at  five  o'clock. 
Having  gone  home  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  on  his  return 
from  the  Rue  Popincourt,  he  had  only  taken  three  hours' 
rest.  His  porter  told  him  that  some  suspicious  persons 
had  inquired  for  him  during  the  evening  of  the  2d,  and 
that  they  had  been  to  the  house  opposite,  No.  12  of  the 
same  street,  Rue  Racine,  to  arrest  Iluguenin.  This  deter- 
mined Aubry  to  leave  his  house  before  daylight. 

He  walked  to  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine.  As  he  reached 
the  place  of  rendezvous  he  met  Cournet  and  the  others 
from  the  Rue  Popincourt.  They  were  almost  immedi- 
ately joined  by  Malardier. 

It  was  dawn.  The  Faubourg  was  solitary.  They  walked 
along  wrapt  in  thought  and  speaking  in  a  low  voice.  Sud- 
denly an  impetuous  and  singular  procession  passed  them. 

They  looked  round.  It  was  a  detachment  of  Lancers 
which  surrounded  something  which  in  the  dim  light  they 
recognized  to  be  a  police-van.  The  vehicle  rolled  noise- 
lessly along  the  macadamized  road. 

They  were  debating  what  this  could  mean,  when  a 
second  and  similar  group  appeared,  then  a  third,  and  then  a 
fourth.  Ten  police  vans  passed  in  this  manner,  following 
each  other  very  closely,  and  almost  touching. 

"  Those  are  our  colleagues ! "  exclaimed  Aubry  (du 
Nord). 

In  truth  the  last  batch  of  the  Representatives,  prisoners 
of  the  Quai  d'Orsay,  the  batch  destined  for  Yincennes, 
was  passing  through  the  Faubourg.  It  was  about  seven 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Some  shops  were  being  opened 
and  were  lighted  inside,  and  a  few  passers-by  came  out  of 
the  houses. 

Three  carriages  defiled  one  after  the  other,  closed, 
guarded,  dreary,  dumb;  no  voice  came  out,  no  cry, 
no  whisper.      They  were   carrying   off  in  the  midst  of 


158  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

swords,  of  sabres,  and  of  lances,  with  the  rapidity  and 
fury  of  the  whirlwind,  something  which  kept  silence ; 
and  that  something  which  they  were  carrying  off,  and 
which  maintained  this  sinister  silence,  was  the  broken 
Tribune,  the  Sovereignty  of  the  Assemblies,  the  supreme 
initiative  whence  all  civilization  is  derived  ;  it  was  the 
word  which  contains  the  future  of  the  world,  it  was  the 
speech  of  France ! 

A  last  carriage  arrived,  which  by  some  chance  had  been 
delayed.  It  was  about  two  or  three  hundred  yards  behind 
the  principal  convoy,  and  was  only  escorted  by  three 
Lancers.  It  was  not  a  police-van,  it  was  an  omnibus,  the 
only  one  in  the  convoy.  Behind  the  conductor,  who  was 
a  police  agent,  there  could  distinctly  be  seen  the  Repre- 
sentatives heaped  up  in  the  interior.  It  seemed  easy  to 
rescue  them. 

Cournet  appealed  to  the  passers-by ;  "  Citizens,"  he  cried, 
"  these  are  your  Representatives,  who  are  being  carried 
off !  You  have  just  seen  them  pass  in  the  vans  of  convicts ! 
Bonaparte  arrests  them  contrary  to  every  law.  Let  us 
rescue  them  !     To  arms  !  " 

A  knot  formed  of  men  in  blouses  and  of  workmen  going 
to  work.  A  shout  came  from  the  knot,  "  Long  live  the 
Republic ! "  and  some  men  rushed  towards  the  vehicle. 
The  carriage  and  the  Lancers  broke  into  a  gallop. 

"  To  arms  !  "  repeated  Cournet. 

"  To  arms  !  "  repeated  the  men  of  the  people. 

There  was  a  moment  of  impulse.  Who  knows  what 
might  have  happened?  It  would  have  been  a  singular 
accident  if  the  first  barricade  against  the  coup  cVetat  had 
been  made  with  this  omnibus,  which,  after  having  aided 
in  the  crime,  would  thus  have  aided  in  the  punishment. 
But  at  the  moment  when  the  people  threw  themselves  on 
the  vehicle  they  saw  several  of  the  Representative-pris- 
oners which  it  contained  sign  to  them  with  both  hands 
to  refrain.  "Eh!"  said  a  workman,  "they  do  not  wish 
it ! " 

A  second  repeated,  "  They  do  not  wish  for  liberty ! " 

Another  added,  "  They  did  not  wish  us  to  have  it,  they 
do  not  wish  it  for  themselves." 

All  was  said,  and  the  omnibus  was  allowed  to  pass  on. 
A  moment  afterwards  the  rear-gnard  of  the  escort  came 
up  and  passed  by  at  a  sharp  trot,  and  the  group  which  sur- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  159 

rounded  Aubry  (du  Nord),  Malardier,  and  Cournet  dis- 
persed. 

The  Cafe  Roysin  had  just  opened.  It  may  be  remem- 
bered that  the  large  hall  of  this  caje  had  served  for  the 
meeting  of  a  famous  club  in  1848.  It  was  there,  it  may 
also  be  remembered,  that  the  rendezvous  had  been  settled. 

The  Cafe  Roysin  is  entered  by  a  passage  opening  out 
upon  the  street,  a  lobby  of  some  yards  in  length  is  next 
crossed,  and  then  comes  a  large  hall,  with  high  windows, 
and  looking-glasses  on  the  walls,  containing  in  the  centre 
several  billiard-tables,  some  small  marble-topped  tables, 
chairs,  and  velvet-covered  benches.  It  was  this  hall,  badly 
arranged,  however,  for  a  meeting  where  we  could  have 
deliberated,  which  had  been  the  hall  of  the  Roysin  Club. 
Cournet,  Aubry,  and  Malardier  installed  themselves  there. 
On  entering  they  did  not  disguise  who  they  were  ;  they 
were  welcomed,  and  shown  an  exit  through  the  garden  in 
case  of  necessity. 

De  Flotte  had  just  joined  them. 

Eight  o'clock  was  striking  when  the  Representatives 
began  to  arrive.  Bruckner,  Maigne,  and  Brillier  first,  and 
then  successively  Charamaule,  Cassal,  Dulac,  Bourzat, 
Madier  de  Montjau,  and  Baudin.  Bourzat,  on  account  of 
the  mud,  as  was  his  custom,  wore  wooden  shoes.  Who- 
ever thought  Bourzat  a  peasant  would  be  mistaken.  lie 
rather  resembled  a  Benedictine  monk.  Bourzat,  with  his 
southern  imagination,  his  quick  intelligence,  keen,  lettered, 
refined,  possesses  an  encyclopedia  in  his  head,  and  wood- 
en shoes  on  his  feet.  Why  not  ?  He  is  Mind  and  People. 
The  ex-Constituent  Bastide  came  in  with  Madier  de  Mont- 
jau. Baudin  shook  the  hands  of  all  with  warmth,  but 
he  did  not  speak.  He  was  pensive.  "  What  is  the  matter 
with  you,  Baudin  ?"  asked  Aubry  (du  Nord).  "Are  you 
mournful?"  "  I?"  said  Baudin,  raising  his  head,  "I  have 
never  been  more  happy." 

Did  he  feel  himself  already  chosen  ?  When  we  are  so 
near  death,  all  radiant  with  glory,  which  smiles  upon  us 
through  the  gloom,  perhaps  we  are  conscious  of  it. 

A  certain  number  of  men,  strangers  to  the  Assembl}', 
all  as  determined  as  the  Representatives  themselves, 
accompanied  them  and  surrounded  them. 

Cournet  was  the  leader.  Amongst  them  there  were 
workmen,    but  no  blouses.     In   order   nut  to   alarm  the 


160  THE  HISTORY  OF  A-CRIME. 

middle  classes  the  workmen  had  "been  requested,  notably 
those  employed  by  Derosne  and  Cail,  to  come  in  coats. 

Baudin  had  with  him  a  copy  of  the  Proclamation  which 
I  had  dictated  to  him  on  the  previous  day.  Cournet  un- 
folded it  and  read  it.  "Let  us  at  once  post  it  up  in  the 
Faubourg,"  said  he.  "  The  People  must  know  that  Louis 
Bonaparte  is  outlawed."  A  lithographic  workman  who 
was  there  offered  to  print  it  without  delay.  All  the  Rep- 
resentatives present  signed  it,  and  they  added  my  name 
to  their  signatures.  Aubry  (du  Nord)  headed  it  with 
these  words,  "  National  Assembly."  The  workman  car- 
ried off  the  Proclamation,  and  kept  his  word.  Some 
hours  afterwards  Aubry  (du  Nord),  and  later  on  a  friend 
of  Cournet's  named  Gay,  met  him  in  the  Faubourg  du 
Temple  paste-pot  in  hand,  posting  the  Proclamation  at 
every  street  corner,  even  next  to  the  Maupas  placard, 
which  threatened  the  penalty  of  death  to  any  one  who 
should  be  found  posting  an  appeal  to  arms.  Groups  read 
the  two  bills  at  the  same  time.  We  may  mention  an  in- 
cident which  ought  to  be  noted,  a  sergeant  of  the  line,  in 
uniform,  in  red  trousers,  accompanied  him  and  protected 
him.  He  was  doubtless  a  soldier  who  had  lately  left  the 
service. 

The  time  fixed  on  the  preceding  evening  for  the  general 
rendezvous  was  from  nine  to  ten  in  the  morning.  This 
hour  had  been  chosen  so  that  there  should  be  time  to  give 
notice  to  all  the  members  of  the  Left ;  it  was  expedient 
to  wait  until  the  Representatives  should  arrive,  so  that 
the  group  should  the  more  resemble  an  Assembly,  and 
that  its  manifestation  should  have  more  authority  on  the 
Faubourg. 

Several  of  the  Representatives  who  had  already  arrived 
had  no  sash  of  office.  Some  were  made  hastily  in  a  neigh- 
boring house  with  strips  of  red,  white,  and  blue  calico, 
and  were  brought  to  them.  Baudin  and  I)e  Flotte  were 
amongst  those  who  girded  on  these  improvised  sashes. 

Meanwhile  it  was  not  yet  nine  o'clock,  when  impatience 
already  began  to  he  manifested  around  them.* 

*"  There  was  also  a  misunderstanding  respecting  the  appointed 
time.  Some  made  a  mistake,  and  thought  it  was  nine  o'clock.  The 
first  arrivals  impatiently  awaited  their  colleagues.  They  were,  as  we 
have  said,  some  twelve  or  fifteen  in  numberat  half- past  eight.  '  Time 
is  being  lost,' exclaimed  one  of  them  who  had  hardly  entered  ;  'let 
us  gird  on  our  sashes  ;  let  us  show  the  Representatives  to  the  People  ; 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  161 

Many  shared  this  glorious  impatience. 

Baudin  wished  to  wait. 

"  Do  not  anticipate  the  hour,"  said  he ;  "  let  us  allow 
our  colleagues  time  to  arrive." 

But  they  murmured  round  Baudin,  "  No,  begin,  give 
the  signal,  go  outside.  The  Faubourg  only  waits  to  see 
your  sashes  to  rise.  You  are  few  in  number,  but  they 
know  that  your  friends  will  rejoin  you.  That  is  sufficient. 
Begin." 

The  result  proved  that  this  undue  haste  could  only 
produce  a  failure.  Meanwhile  they  considered  that  the 
first  example  which  the  Representatives  of  the  People 
ought  to  set  was  personal  courage.  The  spark  must  not 
be  allowed  to  die  out.  To  march  the  first,  to  march  at 
the  head,  such  was  their  duty.  The  semblance  of  any 
hesitation  would  have  been  in  truth  more  disastrous  than 
any  degree  of  rashness. 

Schoelcher  is  of  an  heroic  nature,  he  has  the  grand  im- 
patience of  danger. 

"  Let  us  go,"  he  cried  ;  "  our  friends  will  join  us,  let  us 
go  outside." 

They  had  no  arms. 

"  Let  us  disarm  the  post  which  is  over  there,"  said 
Schoelcher. 

They  left  the  Salle  Roysin  in  order,  two  by  two,  arm  in 
arm.  Fifteen  or  twenty  men  of  the  people  escorted  them. 
They  went  before  them,  crying,  "Long  live  the  Republic! 
To  arms ! " 

Some  children  preceded  and  followed  them,  shouting, 
"Long  live  the  Mountain  !  " 

The  entrances  of  the  closed  shops  were  half  opened.  A 
few  men  appeared  at  the  doors,  a  few  women  showed 
themselves  at  the  windows.  Knots  of  workmen  going  to 
their  work  watched  them  pass.  They  cried,  "Long  live 
our  Representatives  !     Long  live  the  Republic !  " 

lot  us  join  it,  in  raising  barricades.'  We  shall  perhaps  save  the  coun- 
try, at  all  events  we  shall  save  the  honor  of  our  party-  'Come, 
let  us  to  the  barricades  !'  This  advice  was  immediately  and  unan- 
imously acclaimed  :  one  alone,  Citizen  Baudin,  interposed  the 
forcible  objection,  '  We  are  not  sufficiently  numerous  to  adopt  such 
a  resolution.'  But  he  spiritedly  joined  in  the  general  enthusiasm, 
and  with  a  calm  conscience,  after  having  reserved  the  principle,  he 
was  not  the  last  to  gird  on  his  sash.'" — Schcelchek,  Histoire  des 
Crimes  du  2d  Deccmbre,  pp.  130—131. 
11 


162  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Sympathy  was  everywhere,  but  insurrection  nowhere. 
The  procession  gathered  few  adherents  on  the  way. 

A  man  who  was  leading  a  saddled  horse  joined  them. 
They  did  not  know  this  man,  nor  whence  this  horse  came. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  man  offered  his  services  to  any  one 
who  wished  to  fly.  Representative  Dulac  ordered  this 
man  to  be  off. 

In  this  manner  they  reached  the  guard-house  of  the 
Rue  de  Montreuil.  At  their  approach  the  sentry  gave  the 
alarm,  and  the  soldiers  came  out  of  the  guard-house  in 
disorder. 

Schoelcher,  calm,  impassive,  in  ruffles  and  a  white  tie, 
clothed,  as  usual,  in  black,  buttoned  to  the  neck  in  his 
tight  frock  coat,  with  the  intrepid  and  brotherly  air  of  a 
Quaker,  walked  straight  up  to  them. 

"  Comrades,"  he  said  to  them,  "we  are  the  Representa- 
tives of  the  People,  and  come  in  the  name  of  the  people  to 
demand  your  arms  for  the  defence  of  the  Constitution  and 
of  the  Laws !  " 

The  post  allowed  itself  to  be  disarmed.  The  sergeant 
alone  made  any  show  of  resistance,  but  they  said  to  him, 
"  You  are  alone,"  and  he  yielded.  The  Representatives 
distributed  the  guns  and  the  cartridges  to  the  resolute 
band  which  surrounded  them. 

Some  soldiers  exclaimed,  "  Why  do  you  take  away  our 
muskets !     We  would  fight  for  you  and  with  you !  " 

The  Representatives  consulted  whether  they  should 
accept  this  offer.  Schoelcher  was  inclined  to  do  so.  But 
one  of  them  remarked  that  some  Mobile  Guards  had  made 
the  same  overtures  to  the  insurgents  of  June,  and  had 
turned  against  the  Insurrection  the  arms  which  the  In- 
surrection had  left  them. 

The  muskets  therefore  were  not  restored. 

The  disarming  having  been  accomplished,  the  muskets 
were  counted  ;  there  were  fifteen  of  them. 

"  We  are  a  hundred  and  fifty,"  said  Cournet,  "  we  have 
not  enough  muskets." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Schoelcher,  "  where  is  there  a 
post?" 

"  At  the  Lenoir  Market." 

"  Let  us  disarm  it." 

With  Schoelcher  at  their  head  and  escorted  by  fifteen 
armed  men  the  Representatives  proceeded  to  the  Lenoir 


THE  HIS  TOUT  OF  A  CRIME.  163 

Market.  The  post  of  the  Lenoir  Market  allowed  them- 
selves to  be  disarmed  even  more  willingly  than  the  post 
in  the  Rue  de  Montreuil.  The  soldiers  turned  themselves 
round  so  that  the  cartridges  might  be  taken  from  their 
pouches. 

The  muskets  were  immediately  loaded. 

"  Now,"  exclaimed  De  Flotte,  "  we  have  thirty  guns,  let 
us  look  for  a  street  corner,  and  raise  a  barricade." 

There  were  at  that  time  about  two  hundred  com- 
batants. 

They  went  up  the  Rue  de  Montreuil. 

After  some  fifty  steps  Schoelcher  said,  "  Where  are  we 
going  ?  We  are  turning  our  backs  on  the  Bastille.  We 
are  turning  our  backs  upon  the  conflict." 

They  returned  towards  the  Faubourg. 

They  shouted,  "  To  arms !  "  They  were  answered  by 
"  Long  live  our  Representatives  !  "  But  only  a  few  young 
men  joined  them.  It  was  evident  that  the  breeze  of  in- 
surrection was  not  blowing. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  De  Flotte,  "  let  us  begin  the 
battle.  Let  us  achieve  the  glory  of  being  the  first 
killed." 

As  they  reached  the  point  where  the  Streets  Ste. 
Marguerite  and  de  Cotte  open  out  and  divide  the  Fau- 
bourg, a  peasant's  cart  laden  with  dung  entered  the  Rue 
Ste.  Marguerite. 

"  Here,"  exclaimed  De  Flotte, 

They  stopped  the  dung-cart,  and  overturned  it  in  the 
middle  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine. 

A  milkwoman  came  up. 

They  overturned  the  milk-cart. 

A  baker  was  passing  in  his  bread-cart.  He  saw  what 
was  being  done,  attempted  to  escape,  and  urged  his  horse 
to  a  gallop.  Two  or  three  street  Arabs — those  children 
of  Paris  brave  as  lions  and  agile  as  cats — sped  after  the 
baker,  ran  past  his  horse,  which  was  still  galloping, 
stopped  it,  and  brought  back  the  cart  to  the  barricade 
which  had  been  begun. 

They  overturned  the  bread-cart. 

An  omnibus  came  up  on  the  road  from  the  Bastille. 

"  Very  well !  "  said  the  conductor,  "  I  see  what  is  going 
on." 

He  descended  with  a  good  grace,  and  told  his  passengers 


164  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

to  get  down,  while  the  coachman  unharnessed  his  horses 
and  went  away  shaking  his  cloak. 

They  overturned  the  omnibus. 

The  four  vehicles  placed  end  to  end  barely  barred  the 
street  of  the  Faubourg,  which  in  this  part  is  very  wide. 
While  putting  them  in  line  the  men  of  the  barricade 
said, — 

"  Let  us  not  injure  the  carts  more  than  we  can  help." 

This  formed  an  indifferent  barricade,  very  low,  too 
short,  and  which  left  the  pavements  free  on  either  side. 

At  this  moment  a  staff  officer  passed  by  followed  by  an 
orderly,  saw  the  barricade,  and  fled  at  a  gallop. 

Schcelcher  calmly  inspected  the  overturned  vehicles. 
When  he  reached  the  peasant's  cart,  which  made  a  higher 
heap  than  the  others,  he  said,  "  that  is  the  only  good 
one." 

The  barricade  grew  larger.  They  threw  a  few  empty 
baskets  upon  it,  which  made  it  thicker  and  higher  with- 
out strengthening  it. 

They  were  still  working  when  a  child  came  up  to  them 
shouting,  "  The  soldiers  !  " 

In  truth  two  companies  arrived  from  the  Bastille,  at  the 
double,  through  the  Faubourg,  told  off  in  squads  at  short 
distances  apart,  and  barring  the  whole  of  the  street. 

The  doors  and  the  windows  were  hastily  closed. 

During  this  time,  at  a  corner  of  the  barricade,  Bastide, 
impassive,  was  gravely  telling  a  story  to  Madier  de 
Montjau.  "Madier,"  said  he,  "  nearly  two  hundred  years 
ago  the  Prince  de  Conde,  ready  to  give  battle  in  this  very 
Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  where  we  now  are,  asked  an  officer 
who  was  accompanying  him,  '  Have  you  ever  seen  a  battle 
lost?' — 'No,  sire.'  '  Well,  then,  you  will  see  one  now.' — 
Madier,  I  tell  you  to-day, — you  will  speedily  see  a 
barricade  taken." 

In  the  meanwhile  those  who  were  armed  had  assumed 
their  places  for  the  conflict  behind  the  barricade. 

The  critical  moment  drew  nigh. 

"  Citzens,"  cried  Schoelcher,  "  do  not  fire  a  shot.  When 
the  Army  and  the  Faubourgs  fight,  the  blood  of  the 
People  is  shed  on  both  sides.  Let  us  speak  to  the  soldiers 
first." 

He  mounted  on  one  of  the  baskets  which  heightened 
the    barricade.      The    other    Representatives    arranged 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  165 

themselves  near  him  on  the  omnibus.  Malardier  and 
Dulac  were  on  his  right.  Dulac  said  to  him,  "You 
scarcely  know  me,  Citizen  Schcelcher,  but  I  love  you.  Let 
me  have  the  charge  of  remaining  by  your  side.  I  only 
belong  to  the  second  rank  in  the  Assembly,  but  I  want  to 
be  in  the  first  rank  of  the  battle." 

At  this  moment  some  men  in  blouses,  those  whom  the 
Second  of  December  had  enlisted,  appeared  at  the  corner 
of  the  Rue  Ste.  Marguerite,  close  to  the  barricade,  and 
shouted,  "  Down  with  the  '  Twenty-five  francs ! '  " 

Baudin  who  had  already  selected  his  post  for  the  com- 
bat, and  who  was  standing  on  the  barricade,  looked 
fixedly  at  these  men,  and  said  to  them, — 

"  You  shall  see  how  one  can  die  for  '  twenty-five 
francs ! '" 

There  was  a  noise  in  the  street.  Some  few  doors  which 
had  remained  half  opened  were  closed.  The  two  attacking 
columns  had  arrived  in  sight  of  the  barricade.  Further  on 
could  be  seen  confusedly  other  lines  of  bayonets.  They 
were  those  which  had  barred  my  passage. 

Schoelcher,  raising  his  arm  with  authority,  signed  to 
the  captain,  who  commanded  the  first  squad,  to  halt. 

The  captain  made  a  negative  sign  with  his  sword.  The 
whole  of  the  Second  of  December  was  in  these  two  gest- 
ures. The  Law  said,  "  Halt !  "  The  Sabre  answered, 
"  No ! " 

The  two  companies  continued  to  advance,  but  slowly, 
and  keeping  at  the  same  distance  from  each  other. 

Schcelcher  came  down  from  the  barricade  into  the 
street.  De  Flotte,  Dulac,  Malardier,  Brillier,  Maigne,  and 
Bruckner  followed  him. 

Then  was  seen  a  grand  spectacle. 

Seven  Representatives  of  the  People,  armed  only  with 
their  sashes,  that  is  to  say,  majestically  clothed  with  Law 
and  Right,  advanced  in  the  street  beyond  the  barricade, 
and  marched  straight  to  the  soldiers,  who  awaited  them 
with  their  guns  pointed  at  them. 

The  other  Representatives  who  had  remained  at  the 
barricade  made  their  last  preparations  for  resistance.  The 
combatants  maintained  an  intrepid  bearing.  The  Naval 
Lieutenant  Cournet  towered  above  them  all  with  his  tall 
stature.  Baudin,  still  standing  on  the  overturned  omni- 
bus, leaned  half  over  the  barricade. 


166  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

On  seeing  the  Representatives  approach,  the  soldiers 
and  their  officers  were  for  the  moment  bewildered.  Mean- 
while the  captain  signed  to  the  Representatives  to  stop. 

They  stopped,  and  Schcelcher  said  in  an  impressive 
voice, — 

"  Soldiers !  we  are  the  Representatives  of  the  Sovereign 
People,  we  are  your  Representatives,  we  are  the  Elect  of 
Universal  Suffrage.  In  the  name  of  the  Constitution,  in 
the  name  of  Universal  Suffrage,  in  the  name  of  the  Re- 
public, we,  who  are  the  National  Assembly,  we,  who  are 
the  Law,  order  you  to  join  us,  we  summon  you  to  obey. 
We  ourselves  are  your  leaders.  The  Army  belongs  to 
the  People,  and  the  Representatives  of  the  People  are  the 
Chiefs  of  the  Army.  Soldiers !  Louis  Bonaparte  violates 
the  Constitution,  we  have  outlawed  him.     Obey  us." 

The  officer  who  was  in  command,  a  captain  named 
Petit,  did  not  allow  him  to  finish. 

"  Gentlemen,'1  he  said,  "  I  have  my  orders.  I  belong  to 
the  People.  I  am  a  Republican  as  you  are,  but  I  am  only 
an  instrument." 

"  You  know  the  Constitution  ?  "  said  Schcelcher. 

"I  only  know  my  instructions." 

"  There  is  an  instruction  above  all  other  instructions," 
continued  Schcelcher,  "obligatory  upon  the  Soldier  as 
upon  the  Citizen — the  Law." 

He  turned  again  towards  the  soldiers  to  harangue  them, 
but  the  captain  cried  out  to  him, — 

"  Not  another  word !  You  shall  not  go  on !  If  you  add 
one  word,  I  shall  give  the  order  to  fire." 

"  What  does  that  matter  to  us  ?  "  said  Schcelcher. 

At  this  moment  an  officer  arrived  on  horseback.  It 
was  the  major  of  the  regiment.  He  whispered  for  a  mo- 
ment to  the  captain. 

"  Gentlemen !  Representatives  !  "  continued  the  cap- 
tain, waving  his  sword,  "  withdraw,  or  I  shall  fire." 

"  Fire !  "  shouted  De  Flotte. 

The  Representatives — strange  and  heroic  copy  of  Fon- 
tenoy — took  off  their  hats,  and  faced  the  muskets. 

Schcelcher  alone  kept  his  hat  on  his  head,  and  waited 
with  his  arms  crossed. 

"Fix  bayonets,"  said  the  captain.  And  turning  to- 
wards the  squads,  "  Charge !  " 

"  Vive  la  Republique ! "  cried  out  the  Representatives. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  107 

The  bayonets  were  lowered,  the  companies  moved  for- 
ward, the  soldiers  came  on  at  the  double  upon  the  motion- 
less Representatives. 

It  was  a  terrible  and  superb  moment. 

The  seven  Representatives  saw  the  bayonets  at  their 
breasts  without  a  word,  without  a  gesture,  without  one 
step  backwards.  But  the  hesitation  which  was  not  in 
their  soul  was  in  the  heart  of  the  soldiers. 

The  soldiers  felt  distinctly  that  this  was  a  double  stain 
upon  their  uniform — the  outrage  upon  the  Representa- 
tives of  the  People — which  was  treason,  and  the  slaughter 
of  unarmed  men,  which  was  cowardice.  Now  treason 
and  cowardice  are  two  epaulets  to  which  a  general  some- 
times becomes  reconciled,  the  soldier — never. 

When  the  bayonets  were  so  close  to  the  Representa- 
tives that  they  touched  their  breasts,  they  turned  aside 
of  their  own  accord,  and  the  soldiers  by  an  unanimous 
movement  passed  between  the  Representatives  without 
doing  them  any  harm.  Schoelcher  alone  had  his  coat 
pierced  in  two  places,  and  in  his  opinion  this  was  awk- 
wardness instead  of  intention.  One  of  the  soldiers  who 
faced  him  wished  to  push  him  away  from  the  captain,  and 
touched  him  with  his  bayonet.  The  point  encountered 
the  book  of  the  addresses  of  the  Representatives,  which 
Schoelcher  had  in  his  pocket,  and  only  pierced  his  cloth- 
ing. 

A  soldier  said  to  De  Flotte,  "  Citizen,  we  do  not  wish 
to  hurt  you." 

Nevertheless  a  soldier  came  up  to  Bruckner,  and 
pointed  his  gun  at  him. 

"Well,"  said  Bruckner,  "fire." 

The  soldier,  touched,  lowered  his  arm,  and  shook  Bruck- 
ner's hand. 

It  was  singular  that,  notwithstanding  the  order  given 
by  the  officers,  the  two  companies  successively  came  up 
to  the  Representatives,  charged  with  the  bayonet,  and 
turned  aside.  Instructions  may  order,  but  instinct  pre- 
vails;  instructions  maybe  crime,  but  instinct  is   honor. 

Major  V said  afterwards,  "They  had  told  us  that  we 

should  have  to  deal  with  brigands,  we  had  to  deal  with 
heroes." 

Meanwhile  those  on  the  barricade  were  growing  uneasy, 
and  seeing  their  colleagues   surrounded,   and  wishing  to 


168  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

succor  them,  they  fired  a  musket  shot.  This  unfortunate 
shot  killed  a  soldier  between  De  Flotte  and  Schcelcher. 

The  officer  who  commanded  the  second  attacking  squad 
passed  close  to  Schoelcher  as  the  poor  soldier  fell.  Schcel- 
cher pointed  out  the  fallen  man  to  the  officer,  and  said  to 
him,  "  Lieutenant,  look  !  " 

The  officer  answered  by  a  gesture  of  despair, — 

"  What  would  you  have  us  do  ?  " 

The  two  companies  replied  to  the  shot  by  a  general 
volley,  and  rushed  to  the  assault  of  the  barricade,  leaving 
behind  them  the  seven  Representatives  astounded  at  be- 
ing still  alive. 

The  barricade  replied  by  a  volley,  but  it  could  not  hold 
out.     It  was  carried. 

Baudin  was  killed. 

He  had  remained  standing  in  his  position  on  the  omni- 
bus. Three  balls  reached  him.  One  struck  him  in  the 
right  eye  and  penetrated  into  the  brain.  He  fell.  He 
never  regained  consciousness.  Half-an-hour  afterwards 
he  was  dead.  His  body  was  taken  to  the  Ste.  Marguerite 
Hospital. 

Bourzat,  who  was  close  to  Baudin,  with  Aubry  (du 
Nord),  had  his  coat  pierced  by  a  ball. 

We  must  again  remark  a  curious  incident, — the  soldiers 
made  no  prisoner  on  this  barricade.  Those  who  defended 
it  dispersed  through  the  streets  of  the  Faubourg,  or  took 
refuge  in  the  neighboring  houses.  Representative  Maigne, 
pushed  by  some  affrighted  women  behind  a  door,  was 
shut  in  with  one  of  the  soldiers  who  had  just  taken  the 
barricade.  A  moment  afterwards  the  soldier  and  the 
Representative  went  out  together.  The  Representatives 
could  freely  leave  this  first  field  of  battle. 

At  this  solemn  moment  of  the  struggle  a  last  glimmer 
of  Justice  and  of  Right  still  flickered,  and  military  honesty 
recoiled  with  a  sort  of  dread  anxiety  before  the  outrage 
upon  which  they  were  entering.  There  is  the  intoxica- 
tion of  good,  and  there  is  an  intoxication  of  evil :  this 
intoxication  later  on  drowned  the  conscience  of  the  Army. 

The  French  Army  is  not  made  to  commit  crimes. 
When  the  struggle  became  prolonged,  and  ferocious 
orders  of  the  day  had  to  be  executed,  the  soldiers  must 
have  been  maddened.  They  obeyed  not  coldly,  which 
would  have  been  monstrous,  but  with  anger,  and  this 


THE  IUSTOUY  OF  A  CRIME.  169 

History  will  invoke  as  their  excuse ;  and  with  many, 
perhaps,  despair  was  at  the  root  of  their  anger. 

The  fallen  soldier  had  remained  on  the  ground.  It  was 
Schoelcher  who  raised  him.  A  few  women,  weeping,  hut 
hrave,  came  out  of  a  house.  Some  soldiers  came  up. 
They  carried  him,  Schoelcher  holding  his  head,  first  to  a 
fruiterer's  shop,  then  to  the  Ste.  Marguerite  Hospital, 
where  they  had  already  taken  Baudin. 

He  was  a  conscript.  The  hall  had  entered  his  side. 
Through  his  gray  overcoat  huttoned  to  the  collar,  could 
he  seen  a  hole  stained  with  blood.  His  head  had  sunk  on 
his  shoulder,  his  pale  countenance,  encircled  by  the  chin- 
strap  of  his  shako,  had  no  longer  any  expression,  the 
blood  oozed  out  of  his  mouth.  He  seemed  barely  eighteen 
years  old.  Already  a  soldier  and  still  a  boy.  He  was 
dead. 

This  poor  soldier  was  the  first  victim  of  the  coup  d'etat. 
Baudin  was  the  second. 

Before  being  a  Republican  Baudin  had  been  a  tutor. 
He  came  from  that  intelligent  and  brave  race  of  school- 
masters ever  persecuted,  who  have  fallen  from  the  Guizot 
Law  into  the  Falloux  Law,  and  from  theFalloux  Law  into 
the  Dupanloup  Law.  The  crime  of  the  schoolmaster  is  to 
hold  a  book  open  ;  that  suffices,  the  Church  condemns 
him.  There  is  now,  in  France,  in  each  village,  a  lighted 
torch — the  schoolmaster— and  a  mouth  which  blows  upon 
it — the  cure.  The  schoolmasters  of  France,  who  knew 
how  to  die  of  hunger  for  Truth  and  for  Science,  were 
worthy  that  one  of  their  race  should  be  killed  for  Liberty. 

The  first  time  that  I  saw  Baudin  was  at  the  Assembly 
on  January  13,  1850.  I  wished  to  speak  against  the  Law 
of  Instruction.  I  had  not  put  my  name  down ;  Baudin's 
name  stood  second.  He  offered  me  his  turn.  I  accepted, 
and  I  was  able  to  speak  two  days  afterwards,  on  the 
15th. 

Baudin  was  one  of  the  targets  of  Sieur  Dupin,  for  calls 
to  order  and  official  annoyances.  He  shared  this  honor 
with  the  Representatives  Miot  and  Valentin. 

Baudin  ascended  the  Tribune  several  times.  His  mode 
of  speaking,  outwardly  hesitating,  was  energetic  in  the 
main.  He  sat  on  the  crest  of  the  Mountain.  He  had  a 
firm  spirit  and  timid  manners.  Thence  there  was  in  his 
constitutional!  indescribable  embarrassment,  mingled  with 


170  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

decision.  He  was  a  man  of  middle  height.  His  face 
ruddy  and  full,  his  broad  chest,  his  wide  shoulders  an- 
nounced the  robust  man,  the  laborer-schoolmaster,  the 
peasant-thinker.  In  this  he  resembled  Bourzat.  Baudin 
leaned  his  head  on  his  shoulder,  listened  with  intelligence, 
and  spoke  with  a  gentle  and  grave  voice.  He  had  the 
melancholy  air  and  the  bitter  smile  of  the  doomed. 

On  the  evening  of  the  Second  of  December  I  had  asked 
him,  "  How  old  are  you  ?  "  He  had  answered  me,  "  Not 
quite  thirty-three  years." 

"  And  you  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Forty-nine." 

And  he  replied, — 

"  To-day  we  are  of  the  same  age." 

He  thought  in  truth  of  that  to-morrow  which  awaited 
us,  and  in  which  was  hidden  that  "perhaps"  which  is  the 
great  leveller. 

'  The  first  shots  had  been  fired,  a  Representative  had 
fallen,  and  the  people  did  not  rise !  What  bandage  had 
they  on  their  eyes,  what  weight  had  they  on  their  hearts  ? 
Alas !  the  gloom  which  Louis  Bonaparte  had  known  how 
to  cast  over  his  crime,  far  from  lifting,  grew  denser.  For 
the  first  time  in  the  sixty  years,  that  the  Providential  era 
of  Revolutions  had  been  open,  Paris,  the  city  of  intelli- 
gence, seemed  not  to  understand  ! 

On  leaving  the  barricade  of  the  Rue  Ste.  Marguerite, 
De  Flotte  went  to  the  Faubourg  St.  Marceau,  Madier  de 
Montjau  went  to  Belleville,  Charamaule  and  Maigne  pro- 
ceeded to  the  Boulevards.  Schoelcher,  Dulac,  Malardier, 
and  Brillier  again  went  up  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine  by 
the  side  streets  which  the  soldiers  had  not  yet  occupied. 
They  shouted,  "Vive  la  Republique!"  They  harangued 
the  people  on  the  doorsteps  :  "  Is  it  the  Empire  that  you 
want?"  exclaimed  Schoelcher.  They  even  went  as  far  as 
to  sing  the  "  Marseillaise."  People  took  off  their  hats  as 
they  passed  and  shouted  "  Long  live  the  Representatives ! " 
But  that  was  all. 

They  were  thirsty  and  weary.  In  the  Rue  de  Reuilly 
a  man  came  out  of  a  door  with  a  bottle  in  his  hand,  and 
offered  them  drink. 

Sartin  joined  them  on  the  way.  In  the  Rue  de  Charonne 
they  entered  the  meeting- place  of  the  Association  of  Cabi- 
net Makers,  hoping  to  find  there  the  committee  of  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A   CRIME.  171 

association  in  session.  There  was  no  one  there.  But 
nothing  discouraged  them. 

As  they  reached  the  Place  de  la  Bastille,  Dulac  said  to 
Schoelcher,  "  I  will  ask  permission  to  leave  you  for  an 
hour  or  two,  for  this  reason :  I  am  alone  in  Paris  with 
my  little  daughter,  who  is  seven  years  old.  For  the  past 
week  she  has  had  scarlet  fever.  Yesterday,  when  the  coup 
d'etat  burst  forth,  she  was  at  death's  door.  I  have  no  one 
but  this  child  in  the  world.  I  left  her  this  morning  to 
come  with  you,  and  she  said  to  me,  '  Papa,  where  are  you 
going '? '  As  I  am  not  killed,  I  will  go  and  see  if  she  is  not 
dead." 

Two  hours  afterwards  the  child  was  still  living,  and  we 
were  holding  a  permanent  sitting  at  No.  15,  Pue  Richelieu, 
Jules  Favre,  Carnot,  Michel  de  Bourges,  and  myself,  when 
Dulac  entered,  and  said  to  us,  '  I  have  come  to  place  my- 
self at  your  disposal. " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  WTORKMEN's  SOCIETIES  ASK  US  FOR  THE  ORDER  TO 
FIGHT. 

In  presence  of  the  fact  of  the  barricade  of  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Antoine  so  heroically  constructed  by  the  Rep- 
resentatives, so  sadly  neglected  by  the  populace,  the  last 
illusions,  even  mine,  should  have  been  dispersed.  Baudin 
killed,  the  Faubourg  cold.  Such  things  spoke  aloud.  It 
was  a  supreme,  manifest,  absolute  demonstration  of  that 
fact,  the  inaction  of  the  people,  to  which  I  could  not  resign 
myself — a  deplorable  inaction,  if  they  understood,  a  self- 
treason,  if  they  did  not  understand,  a  fatal  neutrality  in 
every  case,  a  calamity  of  which  all  the  responsibility,  we 
repeat,  recoiled  not  upon  the  people  but  upon  those  who 
in  June,  1848,  after  having  promised  them  amnesty,  had 
refused  it,  and  who  had  unhinged  the  great  soul  of  the 
people  of  Paris  by  breaking  faith  with  them.  What  the 
Constituent  Assembly  had  sown  the  Legislative  Assembly 
harvested.  We,  innocent  of  the  fault,  had  to  submit  to 
the  consequence. 

The   spark   which  we  had   seen  flash  for  an  instant 


172  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

through  the  crowd — Michel  de  Bourges  from  the  height 
of  Bonvalet's  balcony,  myself  from  the  Boulevard  du 
Temple — this  spark  seemed  extinguished.  Maigne  firstly, 
then  Brillier,  then  Bruckner,  later  on  Charamaule,  Madier 
de  Montjau,  Bastide,  and  Dulac  came  to  report  to  us  what 
had  passed  at  the  barricade  of  St.  Antoine,  the  motives 
which  had  decided  the  Representatives  present  not  to 
await  the  hour  appointed  for  the  rendezvous,  and  Bau- 
din's  death.  The  report  which  I  made  myself  of  what  I 
had  seen,  and  which  Cassal  and  Alexander  Rey  completed 
by  adding  new  circumstances,  enabled  us  to  ascertain  the 
situation.  The  Committee  could  no  longer  hesitate:  I 
myself  renounced  the  hopes  which  I  had  based  upon  a 
grand  manifestation,  upon  a  powerful  reply  to  the  coup 
d'etat,  upon  a  sort  of  pitched  battle  waged  by  the  guard- 
ians of  the  Republic  against  the  banditti  of  the  Elysee. 
The  Faubourgs  failed  us ;  we  possessed  the  lever — Right, 
but  the  mass  to  be  raised,  the  People,  we  did  not  possess. 
There  was  nothing  more  to  hope  for,  as  those  two  great 
orators,  Michel  de  Bourges  and  Jules  Favre,  with  their 
keen  political  perception,  had  declared  from  the  first,  save 
a  slow  long  struggle,  avoiding  decisive  engagements, 
changing  quarters,  keeping  Paris  on  the  alert,  saying  to 
each,  It  is  not  at  an  end ;  leaving  time  for  the  depart- 
ments to  prepare  their  resistance,  wearying  the  troops 
out,  and  in  which  struggle  the  Parisian  people,  who  do 
not  long  smell  powder  with  impunity,  would  perhaps 
ultimately  take  fire.  Barricades  raised  everywhere, 
barely  defended,  re-made  immediately,  disappearing  and 
multiplying  themselves  at  the  same  time,  such  was  the 
strategy  indicated  by  the  situation.  The  Committee 
adopted  it,  and  sent  orders  in  every  direction  to  this 
effect.  At  that  moment  we  were  sitting  at  No.  15,  Rue 
Richelieu,  at  the  house  of  our  colleague  Grevy,  who  had 
been  arrested  in  the  Tenth  Arrondissement  on  the  pre- 
ceding day,  who  was  at  Mazas.  His  brother  had  offered 
us  his  house  for  our  deliberations.  The  Representatives, 
our  natural  emissaries,  nocked  around  us,  and  scattered 
themselves  throughout  Paris,  with  our  instructions  to  or- 
ganize resistance  at  every  point.  They  were  the  arms 
and  the  Committee  was  the  soul.  A  certain  number  of 
ex-Constituents,  intrepid  men,  Garnier-Pages,  Marie,  Mar- 
tin   (de  Strasbourg),  Senart,  formerly   President  of  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  173 

Constituent  Assembly,  Bastide,  Laissac,  Landrin,  had 
joined  the  Representatives  on  the  preceding  day.  They 
established,  therefore,  in  all  the  districts  where  it  was 
possible  Committees  of  Permanence  in  connection  with  us, 
the  Central  Committee,  and  composed  either  of  Repre- 
sentatives or  of  faithful  citizens.  For  our  watchword  we 
chose  "  Baudin." 

Towards  noon  the  centre  of  Paris  began  to  grow 
agitated. 

Our  appeal  to  arms  was  first  seen  placarded  on  the 
Place  de  la  Bourse  and  the  Rue  Montmartre.  Groups 
pressed  round  to  read  it,  and  battled  with  the  police,  who 
endeavored  to  tear  down  the  bills.  Other  lithographic 
placards  contained  in  two  parallel  columns  the  decree  of 
deposition  drawn  up  by  the  Right  at  the  Mairie  of  the 
Tenth  Arrondissement,  and  the  decree  of  outlawry  voted 
by  the  Left.  There  were  distributed,  printed  on  gray 
paper  in  large  type,  the  judgment  of  the  High  Court  of 
Justice,  declaring  Louis  Bonaparte  attainted  with  the 
Crime  of  High  Treason,  and  signed  "  Hardouin  "  (Presi- 
dent), "  Delapalme,"  "  Moreau  "  (of  the  Seine),  "  Cauchy," 
"  Bataille  "  (Judges).  This  last  name  was  thus  mis-spelt 
by  mistake,  it  should  read  "  Pataille." 

At  that  moment  people  generally  believed,  and  we  our- 
selves believed,  in  this  judgment,  which,  as  we  have  seen, 
was  not  the  genuine  judgment. 

At  the  same  time  they  posted  in  the  populous  quarters, 
at  the  corner  of  every  street,  two  Proclamations.  The 
first  ran  thus  : — 

"TO  THE  PEOPLE. 

"Article  III*  The  Constitution  is  confided  to  the 
keeping  and  to  the  patriotism  of  French  citizens.  Louis 
Napoleon  is  outlawed. 

*  A  typographical  error — it  should  read  "  Article  LX VIII."  On  the 
subject  of  this  placard  the  author  of  this  book  received  the  following 
letter.     It  does  honor  to  those  who  wrote  it  : — 

"  Citizen  Victor  Hugo, — We  know  that  you  have  made  an  appeal 
to  arms.  We  have  not  been  able  to  obtain  it.  We  replace  it  by  these 
bills  which  we  sign  with  your  name.  You  will  not  disown  us.  When 
France  is  in  danger  your  name  belongs  to  all  ;  your  name  is  a  Public 
Power. 

"  Felix  Boxy. 
"Dab  at." 


174  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  The  State  of  Siege  is  abolished. 
"Universal  suffrage  is  re-established. 

"  LoNG  LIVE  THE  REPUBLIC. 

"  To  Arms  ! 

"  For  the  United  Mountain. 

"  The  Delegate,  Victor  Hugo." 

The  second  ran  thus : — 

"INHABITANTS  OF  PARIS. 

"  The  National  Guards  and  the  People  of  the  Depart- 
ments are  marching  on  Paris  to  aid  you  in  seizing  the 
Traitor,  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 

"  For  the  Representatives  of  the  People, 

"  Victor  Hugo,  President. 
"  Schcelciier,  Secretary." 

This  last  placard,  printed  on  little  squares  of  paper,  was 
distributed  abroad,  says  an  historian  of  the  coup  d'etat,  by 
thousands  of  copies. 

For  their  part  the  criminals  installed  in  the  Govern- 
ment offices  replied  by  threats  :  the  great  white  placards, 
that  is  to  say,  the  official  bills,  were  largely  multiplied. 
On  one  could  be  read  : — 

"  We,  Prefect  of  the  Police, 
"  Decree  as  follows  : — 
"  Article  I.  All   meetings  are  rigorously  prohibited. 
They  will  be  immediately  dispersed  by  force. 

"  Article  II.  All  seditious  shouts,  all  reading  in 
public,  all  posting  of  political  documents  not  emanating 
from  a  regularly  constituted  authority,  are  equally  pro- 
hibited. 

"  Article  III.  The  agents  of  the  Public  Police  will  en- 
force the  execution  of  the  present  decree. 

"  Given  at  the  Prefecture  of  Police,  December  3,  1851. 
"De  Maupas,  Prefect  of  Police. 
"  Seen  and  approved, 
"De  Morny,  Minister  of  the  Interior." 

On  another  could  be  read, — 

"The  Minister  of  War, 

"  By  virtue  of  the  Law  on  the  State  of  Siege, 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  175 

"  Decrees  : — 
"  Every  person  taken  constructing  or  defending  a  bar- 
ricade, or  carrying  arms,  WILL  BE  SHOT. 
"  General  of  Division, 

"  Minister  of  war, 

"  De  Saint- Arnaud." 

We  reproduce  this  Proclamation  exactly,  even  to  the 
punctuation.  The  words  "  Will  be  shot "  were  in  capital 
letters  in  the  placards  signed  "  De  Saint- Arnaud." 

The  Boulevards  were  thronged  with  an  excited  crowd. 
The  agitation  increasing  in  the  centre  reached  three  Ar- 
rondissements,  the  6th,  7th,  and  the  12th.  The  district 
of  the  schools  began  to  disorderly.  The  Students  of  Law 
and  of  Medicine  cheered  De  Flotte  on  the  Place  de  Pan- 
theon. Madier  de  Montjau,  ardent  and  eloquent,  went 
through  and  aroused  Belleville.  The  troops,  growing 
more  numerous  every  moment,  took  possession  of  all  the 
strategical  points  of  Paris. 

At  one  o'clock,  a  young  man  was  brought  to  us  by  the 
legal  adviser  of  the  Workmen's  Societies,  the  ex-Con- 
stituent Leblond,  at  whose  house  the  Committee  had 
deliberated  that  morning.  We  were  sitting  in  perma- 
nence, Carnot,  Jules  Favre,  Michel  de  Bourges,  and  myself. 
This  young  man,  who  had  an  earnest  mode  of  speaking 
and  an  intelligent  countenance,  was  named  King.  He 
had  been  sent  to  us  by  the  Committee  of  the  Workmen's 
Society,  from  whom  he  was  delegated.  "  The  Workmen's 
Societies,"  he  said  to  us,  "place  themselves  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  Committee  of  Legal  Insurrection  appointed 
by  the  Left.  They  can  throw  into  the  struggle  five  or  six 
thousand  resolute  men.  They  will  manufacture  powder  ; 
as  for  guns,  they  will  be  found."  The  Workmen's  Society 
requested  from  us  an  order  to  fight  signed  by  us,  Jules 
Favre  took  a  pen  and  wrote, — 

"  The  undersigned  Representatives  authorize  Citizen 
King  and  his  friends  to  defend  with  them,  and  with  arms 
in  their  hands,  Universal  Suffrage,  the  Republic,  the 
Laws." 

He  dated  it,  and  we  all  four  signed  it. 

"  That  is  enough,"  said  the  delegate  to  us,  "  you  will 
hear  of  us." 


176  THE  IIISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

Two  hours  afterwards  it  was  reported  to  us  that  the 
conflict  had  begun.  They  were  fighting  in  the  Rue 
Aumaire. 


CHAPTER  V. 

BATJDINS's     CORPSE. 

With  regard  to  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  we  had,  as  I 
said,  lost  nearly  all  hope,  but  the  men  of  the  coup  d'etat 
had  not  lost  all  uneasiness.  Since  the  attempts  at  rising 
and  the  barricades  of  the  morning  a  rigorous  supervision 
had  been  organized.  Any  one  who  entered  the  Faubourg 
ran  the  risk  of  being  examined,  followed,  and  upon  the 
slightest  suspicion,  arrested.  The  supervision  was  never- 
theless sometimes  at  fault.  About  two  o'clock  a  short 
man,  with  an  earnest  and  attentive  air,  crossed  the 
Faubourg.  A  sergent  de  ville  and  a  police  agent  in  plain 
clothes  barred  his  passage.  "  Who  are  you  ?  "  "  You  see : 
a  passenger."  "Where  are  you  going?"  "Over  there, 
close  by,  to  Bartholomews,  the  overseer  of  the  sugar  man- 
factory. — "  They  search  him.  He  himself  opened  his 
pocket-book ;  the  police  agents  turned  out  the  pockets  of 
of  his  waistcoat  and  unbuttoned  his  shirt  over  his  breast ; 
finally  the  sergent  de  ville  said  gruffly,  "  Yet  I  seem  to 
have  seen  you  here  before  this  morning.  Be  off!"  It 
was  the  Representative  Gindrier.  If  they  had  not  stopped 
at  the  pockets  of  his  waistcoat — and  if  they  had  searched 
his  great-coat,  they  would  have  found  his  sash  there — 
Gindrier  would  have  been  shot. 

Not  to  allow  themselves  to  be  arrested,  to  keep  their 
freedom  for  the  combat — such  was  the  watchword  of  the 
members  of  the  Left.  That  is  why  we  had  our  sashes 
upon  us,  but  not  outwardly  visible. 

Gindrier  had  had  no  food  that  day ;  he  thought  he 
would  go  home,  and  returned  to  the  new  district  of  the 
Havre  Railway  Station,  where  he  resided.  In  the  Rue  de 
Calais,  which  is  a  lonely  street  running  from  Rue  Blanche 
to  the  Rue  de  Clichy,  i\  fiacre  passed  him.  Gindrier  heard 
his  name  called  out.  He  turned  round  and  saw  two  per- 
sons in  a  fiacre,  relations  of  Baudin,  and  a  man  whom  he 
did  not  know.     One  of  the  relations  of  Baudin,  Madame 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  177 

L ,  said  to  him,  "  Baudin  is  wounded  ! "     She  added, 

"  They  have  taken  him  to  the  St.  Antoine  Hospital.  We 
are  going  to  fetch  him.  Come  with  us."  Gindrier  got 
into  the  fiacre. 

The  stranger,  however,  was  an  emissary  of  the  Commis- 
sary of  Police  of  the  Rue  Ste.  Marguerite  St.  Antoine. 
He  had  been  charged  by  the  Commissary  of  Police  to  go 
to  Baudin's  house,  Xo.  88,  Rue  de  Clicliy,  to  inform  the 
family.  Having  only  found  the  women  at  home  he  had 
confined  himself  to  telling  them  that  Representative 
Baudin  was  wounded.  He  offered  to  accompany  them, 
and  went  with  them  in  the  fiacre.  They  had  uttered  the 
name  of  Gindrier  before  him.  This  might  have  been 
imprudent.  They  spoke  to  him  ;  he  declared  that  he 
would  not  betray  the  Representative,  and  it  was  settled 
that  before  the  Commissary  of  Police  Gindrier  should 
assume  to  be  a  relation,  and  be  called  Baudin. 

The  poor  women  still  hoped.  Perhaps  the  wound  was 
serious,  but  Baudin  was  young,  and  had  a  good  constitu- 
tion. "They  will  save  him,"  said  they.  Gindrier  was 
silent.     At    the  office  of  the  Commissary  of  Police  the 

truth  was  revealed. — "How  is  he?"  asked  Madame  L 

on  entering.  "  Why  ?  "  said  the  Commissary,  "  he  is  dead." 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Dead !  "  "  Yes  ;  killed  on  the 
spot." 

This  was  a  painful  moment.  The  despair  of  these  two 
women  who  had  been  so  abruptly  struck  to  the  heart 
burst  forth  in  sobs.     "Ah,  infamous  Bonaparte!"  cried 

Madame  L .     "  He  has  killed  Baudin.     Well,  then,  I 

will  kill  him.  I  will  be  the  Charlotte  Corday  of  this 
Marat." 

Gindrier  claimed  the  body  of  Baudin.  The  Commissary 
of  Police  only  consented  to  restore  it  to  the  family  on 
exacting  a  promise  that  they  would  bury  it  at  once,  and 
without  any  ostentation,  and  that  they  would  not  exhibit 
it  to  the  people.  "You  understand,"  he  said,  "that  the 
sight  of  a  Representative  killed  and  bleeding  might  raise 
Paris."  The  coitp  d'etat  made  corpses,  but  did  not  wish 
that  they  should  lie  utilized. 

On  these  conditions  the  Commissary  of  Police  gave 
Gindrier  two  men  and  a  safe  conduct  to  fetch  the  body  of 
Baudin  from  the  hospital  where  he  had  been  carried. 

Meanwhile  Baudin's  brother,  a  young  man  of  four-and- 
12 


178  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

twenty,  a  medical  student,  came  up.  This  young  man 
lias  since  been  arrested  and  imprisoned.  His  crime  is  his 
brother.  Let  us  continue.  They  proceeded  to  the  hos- 
pital. At  the  sight  of  the  safe  conduct  the  director 
ushered  Gindrier  and  young  Baudin  into  the  parlor.  There 
were  three  pallets  there  covered  with  white  sheets,  under 
which  conld  be  traced  the  motionless  forms  of  three 
human  bodies.  The  one  which  occupied  the  centre  bed 
was  Baudin.  On  his  right  lay  the  young  soldier  killed  a 
minute  before  him  by  the  side  of  Schoelcher,  and  on  the 
left  an  old  woman  who  had  been  struck  down  by  a  spent 
ball  in  the  Rue  de  Cotte,  and  whom  the  executioners  of 
the  coup  d'etat  had  gathered  up  later  on  ;  in  the  first 
moment  one  cannot  find  out  all  one's  riches. 

The  three  corpses  were  naked  under  their  winding- 
sheets. 

They  had  left  to  Baudin  alone  his  shirt  and  his  flannel 
vest.  They  had  found  on  him  seven  francs,  his  gold 
watch  and  chain,  his  Representative's  medal,  and  a  gold 
pencil-case  which  he  had  used  in  the  Rne  de  Popincourt, 
after  having  passed  me  the  other  pencil,  which  I  still  pre- 
serve. Gindrier  and  young  Baudin,  bare-headed,  ap- 
proached the  centre  bed.  They  raised  the  shroud,  and 
Baudin's  dead  face  became  visible.  lie  was  calm,  and 
seemed  asleep.  Xo  feature  appeared  contracted.  A  livid  # 
tint  began  to  mottle  his  face. 

They  drew  up  an  official  report.  It  is  customary.  It 
is  not  sufficient  to  kill  people.  An  official  report  must 
also  be  drawn  up.  Young  Baudin  had  to  sign  it,  upon 
which,  on  the  demand  of  the  Commissary  of  Police,  they 
"made  over  "to  him  the  body  of  his  brother.  During 
these  signatures,  Gindrier  in  the  courtyard  of  the  hospital, 
attempted  if  not  to  console,  at  least  to  calm  the  two  de- 
spairing women. 

Suddenly  a  man  who  had  entered  the  courtyard,  and 
who  had  attentively  watched  him  for  some  moments, 
came  abruptly  up  to  him, — 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ?" 

"  What  is  that  to  you  ?  "  said  Gindrier. 

"  You  have  come  to  fetch  Baudin's  body?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Is  this  your  carriage?" 

«  Yes." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  179 

"  Get  in  at  once,  and  pull  down  the  blinds." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  You  are  the  Representative  Gindrier.  I  know  you. 
You  were  this  morning  on  the  barricade.  If  any  other 
than  myself  should  see  you,  you  are  lost." 

Gindrier  followed  his  advice  and  got  into  the  fiacre. 
While  getting  in  he  asked  the  man : 

"  Do  you  belong  to  the  Police  ?  " 

The  man  did  not  answer.  A  moment  after  he  came 
and  said  in  a  low  voice,  near  the  door  of  the  fiacre  in  which 
Gindrier  was  enclosed, — 

"  Yes,  I  eat  the  bread,  but  I  do  not  do  the  work." 

The  two  men  sent  by  the  Commissary  of  Police  took 
Baudin  on  his  wooden  bed  and  carried  him  to  the  fia ere. 
They  placed  him  at  the  bottom  of  the  fiacre  with  his  face 
covered,  and  enveloped  from  head  to  foot  in  a  shroud. 
A  workman  who  was  there  lent  his  cloak,  which  was 
thrown  over  the  corpse  in  order  not  to  attract  the  notice 

of  passers-by.     Madame  L took  her  place  by  the  side 

of  the  body,  Gindrier  opposite,  young  Baudin  next  to 
Gindrier.  A  fiacre  followed,  in  which  were  the  other 
relative  of  Baudin  and  a  medical  student  named  Duteche. 

They  set  off.  During  the  journey  the  head  of  the  corpse, 
shaken  by  the  carriage,  rolled  from  shoulder  to  shoulder ; 
the  blood  began  to  flow  from  the  wound  and  appeared 
in  large  red  patches  through  the  white  sheet.  Gindrier 
with  his  arms  stretched  out  and  his  hand  placed  on  its 

breast,  prevented  it  from  falling  forwards ;  Madame  L 

held  it  up  by  the  side. 

They  had  told  the  coachman  to  drive  slowly ;  the 
journey  lasted  more  than  an  hour. 

When  they  reached  Xo.  88,  Due  de  Clichy,  the  bring- 
ing out  of  the  body  attracted  a  curious  crowd  before  the 
door.  The  neighbors  flocked  thither.  Baudin's  brother, 
assisted  by  Gindrier  and  Duteche,  carried  up  the  corpse 
to  the  fourth  floor,  where  Baudin  resided.  It  was  a  new 
house,  and  he  had  only  lived  there  a  few  months. 

They  carried  him  into  his  room,  which  was  in  order, 
and  just  as  he  had  left  it  on  the  morning  of  the  2d.  The 
bed,  on  which  he  had  not  slept  the  preceding  night,  had 
not  been  disturbed.  A  book  which  he  had  been  reading 
had  remained  on  the  table,  open  at  the  page  where  lie 
had  left  off.     They  unrolled  the  shroud,  and  Gindrier  cut 


180  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

off  his  shirt  and  his  flannel  vest  with  a  pair  of  scissors. 
They  washed  the  body.  The  ball  had  entered  through 
the  corner  of  the  arch  of  the  right  eye,  and  had  gone  out 
at  the  back  of  the  head.  The  wound  of  the  eye  had  not 
bled.  A  sort  of  swelling  had  formed  there ;  the  blood 
had  flowed  copiously  through  the  hole  at  the  back  of  the 
head.  They  put  clean  linen  on  him,  and  clean  sheets  on 
the  bed,  and  laid  him  down  with  his  head  on  the  pillow, 
and  his  face  uncovered.  The  women  were  weeping  in  the 
next  room. 

Gindrier  had  already  rendered  the  same  service  to  the 
ex- Constituent  James  Demontry.  In  1850  James  De- 
montry  died  in  exile  at  Cologne.  Gindrier  started  for  Co- 
logne, went  to  the  cemetery,  and  had  James  Demontry 
exhumed.  He  had  the  heart  extracted,  embalmed  it,  and 
enclosed  it  in  a  silver  vase,  which  he  took  to  Paris.  The 
party  of  the  Mountain  delegated  him,  with  Chollet  and 
Joigneux,  to  convey  this  heart  to  Dijon,  Demontry's 
native  place,  and  to  give  him  a  solemn  funeral.  This 
funeral  was  prohibited  by  an  order  of  Louis  Bonaparte, 
then  President  of  the  Republic.  The  burial  of  brave  and 
faithful  men  was  unpleasing  to  Louis  Bonaparte — not  so 
their  death. 

When  Baudin  had  been  laid  out  on  the  bed,  the  women 
came  in,  and  all  this  family,  seated  round  the  corpse, 
wept.  Gindrier,  whom  other  duties  called  elsewhere, 
went  downstairs  with  Duteche.  A  crowd  had  formed 
before  the  door. 

A  man  in  a  blouse,  with  his  hat  on  his  head,  mounted 
on  a  kerbstone,  was  speechifying  and  glorifying  the  coup 
(Tetat.  Universal  Suffrage  re-established,  the  Law  of  the 
31st May  abolished,  the  " Twenty-five  francs  "  suppressed; 
Louis  Bonaparte  has  done  well,  etc. — Gindrier,  standing 
on  the  threshold  of  the  door,  raised  his  voice:  "  Citizens  ! 
above  lies  Baudin,  a  Representative  of  the  People,  killed 
while  defending  the  People ;  Baudin  the  Representative 
of  you  all,  mark  that  well !  You  are  before  his  house ; 
he  is  there  bleeding  on  his  bed,  and  here  is  a  man  who 
dares  in  this  place  to  applaud  his  assassin!  Citizens! 
shall  I  tell  you  the  name  of  this  man  ?  He  is  called  the 
Police  !  Shame  and  infamy  to  traitors  and  to  cowards  ! 
Respect  to  the  corpse  of  him  who  has  died  for  you  !  " 

And  pushing  aside  the  crowd,  Gindrier  took  the  man 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  181 

who  had  been  speaking  by  the  collar,  and  knocking  his 
hat  on  to  the  ground  with  the  back  of  his  hand,  he  cried, 
"Hats  off!" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  DECREES  OF  THE  REPRESENTATIVES  WHO  REMAINED  FREE. 

The  text  of  the  judgment  which  was  believed  to  have 
been  d/avvn  up  by  the  High  Court  of  Justice  had  been 
brought  to  us  by  the  ex-Constituent  Martin  (of  Strasbourg), 
a  lawyer  at  the  Court  of  Cassation.  At  the  same  time 
we  learned  what  was  happening  in  the  Rue  Aumaire. 
The  battle  was  beginning,  it  was  important  to  sustain  it, 
and  to  feed  it ;  it  was  important  ever  to  place  the  legal 
resistance  by  the'  side  of  the  armed  resistance.  The  mem- 
bers who  had  met  together  on  the  preceding  day  at  the 
Mairie  of  the  Tenth  Arrondissement  had  decreed  the  de- 
position of  Louis  Bonaparte ;  but  this  decree,  drawn  up  by 
a  meeting  almost  exclusively  composed  of  the  unpopular 
members  of  the  majority,  might  have  no  effect  on  the 
masses  ;  it  was  necessary  that  the  Left  should  take  it  up, 
should  adopt  it,  should  imprint  upon  it  a  more  energetic 
and  more  revolutionary  accent,  and  also  take  possession 
of  the  judgment  of  the  High  Court,  which  was  believed 
to  be  genuine,  to  lend  assistance  to  this  judgment,  and 
put  it  into  execution. 

In  our  appeal  to  arms  we  had  outlawed  Louis  Bonaparte. 
The  decree  of  deposition  taken  up  and  counter-signed  by 
us  added  weight  to  this  outlawry,  and  completed  the 
revolutionary  act  by  the  legal  act. 

The  Committee  of  Resistance  called  together  the  Re- 
publican Representatives. 

The  apartments  of  M.  Grevy,  where  we  had  been  sitting, 
being  too  small,  we  appointed  for  our 'meeting-place  No. 
10.  Rue  des  Moulins,  although  warned  that  the  police 
had  already  made  a  raid  upon  this  house.  But  we  had  no 
choice ;  in  time  of  Revolution  prudence  is  impossible,  and 
it  is  speedily  seen  that  it  is  useless.  Confidence,  always 
confidence ;  such  is  the  law  of  those  grand  actions  which 
at  times  determine  great  events.  The  perpetual  improvi- 
sation of  means,  of  policy,  of  expedients,  of  resources, 


182  TIIE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

nothing-  step  by  step,  everything  on  the  impulse  of  the 
moment,  the  ground  never  sounded,  all  risks  taken  as  a 
whole,  the  good  with  the  bad,  everything  chanced  on  all 
sides  at  the  same  time,  the  hour,  the  place,  the  opportu- 
nity, friends,  family,  liberty,  fortune,  life, — such  is  the 
revolutionary  conflict. 

Towards  three  o'clock  about  sixty  Representatives 
were  meeting  at  No.  10,  Rue  des  Moulin s,  in  the  large 
drawing-room,  out  of  which  opened  a  little  room  where 
the  Committee  of  Resistance  was  in  session. 

It  was  a  gloomy  December  day,  and  darkness  seemed 
already  to  have  almost  set  in.  The  publisher  Iletzel,  who 
might  also  be  called  the  poet  Iletzel,  is  of  a  noble  mind  and 
of  great  courage.  He  has,  as  is  known,  shown  unusual 
political  qualities  as  Secretary-General  of  the  Ministry  of 
Foreign  Affairs  under  Bastide  ;  he  came  to  offer  himself 
to  us,  as  the  brave  and  patriotic  Hingray  had  already 
done  in  the  morning.  Iletzel  knew  that  we  needed  a 
printing-office  above  everything  ;  we  had  not  the  faculty 
of  speech,  and  Louis  Bonaparte  spoke  alone.  Iletzel  had 
found  a  printer  who  had  said  to  him,  '■'•Force  me, put  a 
jristol  to  my  throat,  and  I  will  print  whatever  you  wish.'1'' 
It  was  only  a  question,  therefore,  of  getting  a  few  friends 
together,  of  seizing  this  printing-office  by  main  force,  of 
barricading  it,  and,  if  necessary,  of  sustaining  a  siege, 
while  our  Proclamations  and  our  decrees  were  being 
printed.  Iletzel  offered  this  to  us.  One  incident  of  his 
arrival  at  our  meeting-place  deserves  to  be  noted.  As  he 
drew  near  the  doorway  he  saw  in  the  twilight  of  this 
dreary  December  day  a  man  standing  motionless  at  a 
short  distance,  and  who  seemed  to  be  lying  in  wait.  lie 
went  up  to  this  man,  and  recognized  M.  Yon,  the  former 
Commissary  of  Police  of  the  Assembly 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ? "  said  Iletzel  abruptly. 
"Are  you  there  to  arrest  us?  In  that  case,  here  is 
what  I  have  got  for  you,"  and  he  took  out  two  pistols 
from  his  pocket. 

M.  Yon  answered  smiling, — 

"I  am  in  truth  watching,  not  against  you,  but  for  you; 
I  am  guarding  you." 

M.  Yon,  aware  of  our  meeting  at  Landrin's  house  and 
fearing  that  we  should  be  arrested,  was,  of  his  own  accord, 
acting  as  police  for  us. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  183 

IJetzel  had  already  revealed  his  scheme  to  Representa- 
tive Labrousse,  who  was  to  accompany  him  and  give  him 
the  moral  support  of  the  Assembly  in  his  perilous  expe- 
dition. A  first  rendezvous  which  had  been  agreed  upon 
between  them  at  the  Cafe  Cardinal  having  failed,  La- 
brousse had  left  with  the  owner  of  the  cafe  for  Iletzel  a 
note  couched  in  these  terms  : — 

"  Madame  Elizabeth  awaits  M.  Iletzel  at  No.  10,  Rue 
des  Moulins." 

In  accordance  with  this  note  Iletzel  had  come. 

We  accepted  Iletzel's  offer,  and  it  was  agreed  that  at 
nightfall  Representative  Versigny,  who  performed  the 
duties  of  Secretary  to  the  Committee,  should  take  him 
our  decrees,  our  Proclamation,  such  items  of  news  as  may 
have  reached  us,  and  all  that  we  should  judge  proper  to 
publish.  It  was  settled  that  Iletzel  should  await  Versigny 
on  the  pavement  at  the  end  of  the  Rue  de  Richelieu  which 
runs  alongside  the  Cafe  Cardinal. 

Meanwhile  Jules  Favre,  Michel  dc  Bourges  and  myself 
had  drawn  up  a  final  decree,  which  was  to  combine  the 
deposition  voted  by  the  Right  with  the  outlawry  voted 
by  us.  We  came  back  into  the  large  room  to  read  it  to  the 
assembled  Representatives,  and  for  them  to  sign  it. 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  andEmile  de  Girardin 
appeared.  We  had  not  seen  him  since  the  previous  even- 
ing. 

Emile  de  Girardin — after  dispersing  from  around  him 
that  mist  which  envelopes  every  combatant  in  party  war- 
fare, and  which  at  a  distance  changes  or  obscures  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  man — Emile  de  Girardin  is  an  extraordinary 
thinker,  an  accurate  writer,  energetic,  logical,  skilful, 
hearty  ;  a  journalist  in  whom,  as  in  all  great  journalists, 
can  be  seen  the  statesman.  We  owe  to  Emile  de  Girardin 
this  great  work  of  progress,  the  cheap  Press.  Kmile  de 
Girardin  has  this  great  gift,  a  clearheaded  stubbornness. 
Emile  de  Girardin  is  a  public  watchman  ;  his  journal  is 
his  sentry-box;  he  waits,  he  watches,  he  spies  out,  he 
enlightens,  he  lies  in  wait,  lie  cries  "Who  goes  there?"  at 
the  slightest  alarm,  he  fires  volleys  with  his  pen.  He  is 
ready  for  every  form  of  combat,  a  sentinel  to-day,  a 
General  to-morrow.  Pike  all  earnest  minds  he  under- 
stands, he  sees,  he  recognizes,  he  handles,  so  to  speak, 
the  great  and  magnificent  identity  embraced  under  these 


184  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

three  words,  "  Revolution,  Progress,  Liberty ; "  he  wishes 
for  the  Revolution,  but  above  all  through  Progress ;  he 
wishes  for  progress,  but  solely  through  Liberty.  One  can, 
and  according  to  our  opinion  sometimes  rightly,  differ 
from  him  as  to  the  road  to  be  taken,  as  to  the  attitude  to 
be  assumed,  and  the  position  to  be  maintained,  but  no  one 
can  deny  his  courage,  which  he  has  proved  in  every  form, 
nor  reject  his  object,  which  is  the  moral  and  physical 
amelioration  of  the  lot  of  all.  Emile  de  Girardin  is  more 
Democratic  than  Republican,  more  Socialist  than  Demo- 
cratic ;  on  the  day  when  these  three  ideas,  Democracy,  Re- 
publicanism, Socialism,  that  is  to  say,  the  principle,  the 
form,  and  the  application,  are  balanced  in  his  mind  the 
oscillations  which  still  exist  in  him  will  cease.  He  has 
already  Power,  he  will  have  Stability. 

In  the  course  of  this  sitting,  as  we  shall  see,  I  did  not 
always  agree  with  Emile  de  Girardin.  All  the  more  rea- 
son that  I  should  record  here  how  greatly  I  appreciate  the 
mind  formed  of  light  and  of  courage.  Emile  de  Girardin, 
whatever  his  failings  may  be,  is  one  of  those  men  who  do 
honor  to  the  Press  of  to-day ;  he  unites  in  the  highest 
degree  the  dexterity  of  the  combatant  with  the  serenity 
of  the  thinker. 

I  went  up  to  him,  and  I  asked  him, — 

"  Have  you  any  workmen  of  the  Presse  still  remaining  ?  " 

He  answered  me, — 

"  Our  presses  are  under  seal,  and  guarded  by  the  Gen- 
darmerie Mobile,  but  I  have  five  or  six  willing  workmen, 
they  can  produce  a  few  placards  with  the  brush." 

"  Well  then,1'  said  I,  "  print  our  decrees  and  our  Proc- 
lamation." "  I  will  print  anything,"  answered  he,  "  as 
long  as  it  is  not  an  appeal  to  arms." 

1  Ie  added,  addressing  himself  to  me,  "  I  know  your  Proc- 
lamation.    It  is  a  war-cry,  I  cannot  print  that." 

They  remonstrated  at  this.  He  then  declared  that  he 
for  his  part  made  Proclamations,  but  in  a  different  sense 
from  ours.  That  according  to  him  Louis  Bonaparte  should 
not  be  combated  by  force  of  arms,  but  by  creating  a 
vacuum.  By  an  armed  conflict  he  would  be  the  con- 
queror, by  a  vacuum  he  would  be  conquered.  He  urged 
us  to  aid  him  in  isolating  the  "deposed  of  the  Second 
December."  "  Let  us  bring  about  a  vacuum  around  him  !  " 
cried  Emile  de  Girardin,  "let  us  proclaim  azi  universal 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  185 

strike.  Let  the  merchant  cease  to  sell,  let  the  consumer 
cease  from  buying,  let  the  workman  cease  from  working1, 
let  the  butcher  cease  from  killing,  let  the  baker  cease 
from  baking,  let  everything  keep  holiday,  even  to  the  Na- 
tional Printing  Office,  so  that  Louis  Bonaparte  may  not 
find  a  compositor  to  compose  the  Moniteur,  not  a  pressman 
to  machine  it,  not  a  bill-sticker  to  placard  it !  Isolation, 
solitude,  a  void  space  round  this  man !  Let  the  nation 
withdraw  from  him.  Every  power  from  which  the  nation 
withdraws  falls  like  a  tree  from  which  the  roots  are  di- 
vided. Louis  Bonaparte  abandoned  by  all  in  his  crime  will 
vanish  away.  By  simply  folding  our  arms  as  we  stand 
around  him  he  will  fall.  On  the  other  hand,  fire  on  him 
and  you  will  consolidate  him.  The  army  is  intoxicated, 
the  people  are  dazed  and  do  not  interfere,  the  middle 
classes  are  afraid  of  the  President,  of  the  people,  of  you, 
of  every  one !  No  victory  is  possible.  You  will  go 
straight  before  you,  like  brave  men,  you  risk  your  heads, 
very  good ;  you  will  carry  with  you  two  or  three  thou- 
sand daring  men,  whose  blood  mingled  with  yours,  already 
flows.  It  is  heroic,  I  grant  you.  It  is  not  politic.  As 
for  me,  I  will  not  print  an  appeal  to  arms,  and  I  reject 
the  combat.     Let  us  organize  an  universal  strike." 

This  point  of  view  was  haughty  and  superb,  but  unfort- 
unately I  felt  it  to  be  unattainable.  Two  aspects  of  the 
truth  seized  Girardin,  the  logical  side  and  the  practical 
side.     Here,  in  my  opinion,  the  practical  side  was  wanting. 

Michel  de  Bourges  answered  him.  Michel  de  Bourges 
with  his  sound  logic  and  quick  reasoning  put  his  finger 
on  what  was  for  us  the  immediate  question  ;  the  crime  of 
Louis  Bonaparte,  the  necessity  to  rise  up  erect  before 
this  crime.  It  was  rather  a  conversation  than  a  debate, 
but  Michel  de  Bourges  and  Jules  Favre,  who  spoke  next, 
raised  it  to  the  highest  eloquence.  Jules  Favre,  worthy 
to  understand  the  powerful  mind  of  Girardin  would  will- 
ingly have  adopted  this  idea,  if  it  had  seemed  practicable, 
of  the  universal  strike,  of  the  void  around  the  man ;  he 
found  it  great,  but  impossible.  A  nation  does  not  pull  up 
short.  Even  when  struck  to  the  heart,  it  still  moves  on. 
Social  movement,  which  is  the  animal  life  of  society,  sur- 
vives all  political  movement.  Whatever  Emile  de  Girar- 
din might  hope,  there  would  always  be  a  butcher  who 
would  kill,  a  baker  who  would  bake,  men  must  eat !     "  To 


186  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

make  universal  labor  fold  its  arras  is  a  chimera ! "  said 
Jules  Favre,  "  a  dream !  The  People  fight  for  three  days,  for 
four  days,  for  a  week;  society  will  not  wait  indefinitely." 
As  to  the  situation,  it  was  doubtless  terrible,  it  was  doubt- 
less tragical,  and  blood  flowed,  but  who  had  brought 
about  this  situation?  Louis  Bonaparte.  For  ourselves 
we  would  accept  it,  such  as  it  was,  and  nothing  more. 

Emile  de  Girardin,  steadfast,  logical,  absolute  in  his 
idea,  persisted.  Some  might  be  shaken.  Arguments, 
which  were  so  abundant  in  this  vigorous  and  inexhaust- 
ible mind,  crowded  upon  him.  As  for  me,  I  saw  Duty 
before  me  like  a  torch. 

I  interrupted  him.  I  cried  out,  "It  is  too  late  to 
deliberate  what  we  are  to  do.  We  have  not  got  to  do  it. 
It  is  done.  The  gauntlet  of  the  coup  cV  etat  is  thrown 
down,  the  Left  takes  it  up.  The  matter  is  as  simple  as 
this.  The  outrage  of  the  Second  December  is  an  infa- 
mous, insolent,  unprecedented  defiance  to  Democracy,  to 
Civilization,  to  Liberty,  to  the  People,  to  France.  I  repeat 
that  we  have  taken  up  this  gauntlet,  we  are  the  Law,  but 
the  living  Law  which  at  need  can  arm  itself  and  fight.  A 
gun  in  our  hands  is  a  protest.  I  do  not  know  whether 
we  shall  conquer,  but  it  is  our  duty  to  protest.  To  protest 
first  in  Parliament;  when  Parliament  is  closed,  to  protest 
in  the  street;  when  the  street  is  closed,  to  protest  in 
exile ;  when  exile  is  fulfilled,  to  protest  in  the  tomb. 
Such  is  our  part,  our  office,  our  mission.  The  authority 
of  the  Representatives  is  elastic ;  the  People  bestow  it, 
events  extend  it." 

While  we  were  deliberating,  our  colleague,  Xapoleon 
Bonaparte,  son  of  the  ex-King  of  Westphalia,  came  in. 
lie  listened.  He  spoke.  He  energetically  blamed,  in  a 
tone  of  sincere  and  generous  indignation,  his  cousin's 
crime,  but  lie  declared  that  in  his  opinion  a  written  protest 
would  suffice.  A  protest  of  the  Representatives,  a  protest 
of  the  Council  of  State,  a  protest  of  the  Magistracy,  a 
protest  of  the  Press,  that  this  protest  would  be  unani- 
mous and  would  enlighten  France,  but  that  no  other  form 
of  resistance  would  obtain  unanimity.  That  as  for  him- 
self, having  always  considered  the  Constitution  worthless, 
having  contended  against  it  from  the  first  in  the  Constit- 
uent Assembly,  he  would  not  defend  it  at  the  last,  that 
he  assuredly  would  not  give  one  drop  of  blood  for  it. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  187 

That  the  Constitution  was  dead,  but  that  the  Republic 
was  living,  and  that  we  must  save,  not  the  Constitution, 
a  corpse,  but  the  Republic,  the  principle! 

Remonstrances  burst  forth.  Bancel,  young,  glowing, 
eloquent,  impetuous,  overflowing  with  self-confidence, 
cried  out  that  Ave  ought  not  to  look  at  the  shortcomings 
of  the  Constitution,  but  at  the  enormity  of  the  crime 
which  had  been  committed,  the  flagrant  treason,  the 
violated  oath ;  he  declared  that  we  might  have  voted 
against  the  Constitution  in  the  Constituent  Assembly, 
and  yet  defend  it  to-day  in  the  presence  of  an  usurper ; 
that  this  was  logical,  and  that  many  amongst  us  were  in 
this  position.  He  cited  me  as  an  example.  Victor  Hugo, 
said  he,  is  a  proof  of  this.  lie  concluded  thus :  "  You 
have  been  present  at  the  construction  of  a  vessel,  you 
have  considered  it  badly  built,  you  have  given  advice 
which  has  not  been  listened  to.  Nevertheless,  you  have 
been  obliged  to  embark  on  board  this  vessel,  your  children 
and  your  brothers  are  there  with  you,  your  mother  is  on 
board.  A  pirate  ranges  up,  axe  in  one  hand,  to  scuttle 
the  vessel,  a  torch  in  the  other  to  fire  it.  The  crew  are 
resolved  to  defend  themselves  and  run  to  arms.  Would 
you  say  to  this  crew,  '  For  my  part  I  consider  this  vessel 
badly  built,  and  I  will  let  it  be  destroyed'?" 

"  In  such  a  case,"  added  Edgar  Quinet,  "  whoever  is  not 
on  the  side  of  the  vessel  is  on  the  side  of  the  pirates." 

They  shouted  on  all  sides,  "  The  decree !  Read  the 
decree ! " 

I  was  standing  leaning  against  the  fire  place.  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  came  up  to  me,  and  whispered  in  my  ear,— 

"  You  are  undertaking,"  said  he,  "  a  battle  which  is  lost 
beforehand." 

I  answered  him,  "  I  do  not  look  at  success,  I  look  at 
duty." 

lie  replied,  "  You  are  a  politician,  consequently  you 
ought  to  look  forward  to  success.  I  repeat,  before  you  go 
any  further,  that  the  battle  is  lost  beforehand." 

I  resumed,  "  If  we  enter  upon  the  conflict  the  battle  is 
lost.  You  say  so,  I  believe  it ;  but  if  we  do  not  enter 
upon  it,  honor  is  lost.  I  would  rather  lose  the  battle 
than  honor." 

He  remained  silent  for  a  moment,  then  he  took  my 
hand. 


188  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  Be  it  so,"  continued  he,  "  but  listen  to  me.  You  run, 
you  yourself  personally,  great  danger.  Of  all  the  men  in 
the  Assembly  you  are  the  one  whom  tbe  President  hates 
the  most.  You  have  from  the  height  of  the  Tribune  nick- 
named him,  '  Napoleon  the  Little.'  You  understand  that 
will  never  be  forgotten.  Besides,  it  was  you  who  dictated 
tbe  appeal  to  arms,  and  that  is  known.  If  you  are  taken, 
you  are  lost.  You  will  be  shot  on  the  spot,  or  at  least 
transported.  Have  you  a  safe  place  where  you  can  sleep 
to-night  ?  " 

I  had  not  as  yet  thought  of  this.  "  In  truth,  no," 
answered  I. 

He  continued,  "Well,  then,  come  to  my  house.  There 
is  perhaps  only  one  house  in  Paris  where  you  would  be 
in  safety.  That  is  mine.  They  will  not  come  to  look  for 
you  there.  Come,  day  or  night,  at  what  hour  you  please, 
I  will  await  you,  and  I  will  open  the  door  to  you  myself. 
I  live  at  No.  5,  Rue  d' Alger." 

I  thanked  him.  It  was  a  noble  and  cordial  offer.  I 
was  touched  by  it.  I  did  not  make  use  of  it,  but  I  have 
not  forgotten  it. 

They  cried  out  anew,  "  Read  the  decree !  Sit  down ! 
sit  down ! " 

There  was  a  round  table  before  the  fire  place ;  a  lamp, 
pens,  blotting-books,  and  paper  were  brought  there ;  the 
members  of  the  Committee  sat  down  at  this  table,  the 
Representatives  took  their  places  around  them  on  sofas, 
on  arm-chairs,  and  on  all  the  chairs  which  could  be  found 
in  the  adjoining  rooms.  Some  looked  about  for  Napoleon 
Bonaparte.     He  had  withdrawn. 

A  member  requested  that  in  the  first  place  the  meeting 
should  declare  itself  to  be  the  National  Assembly,  and 
constitute  itself  by  immediately  appointing  a  President 
and  Secretaries.  I  remarked  that  there  was  no  need  to 
declare  ourselves  the  Assembly,  that  we  were  the  Assem- 
bly by  right  as  well  as  in  fact,  and  the  whole  Assembly, 
our  absent  colleagues  being  detained  by  force ;  that  the 
National  Assembly,  although  mutilated  by  the  coup  d'etat, 
ought  to  preserve  its  entity  and  remain  constituted  after- 
wards in  the  same  manner  as  before;  that  to  appoint 
another  President  and  another  staff  of  Secretaries  would 
be  to  give  Louis  Bonaparte  an  advantage  over  us,  and  to 
acknowledge  in  some  manner  the  Dissolution ;  that  we 


THE  BISTORT  OF  A  CRIME.  189 

ought  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort ;  that  our  decrees  should 
he  published,  not  with  the  signature  of  a  President,  who- 
ever he  might  be,  but  with  the  signature  of  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Left  who  had  not  been  arrested,  that  they 
would  thus  carry  with  them  full  authority  over  the  People, 
and  full  effect.  They  relinquished  the  idea  of  appointing 
a  President.  Noel  Parfait  proposed  that  our  decrees  and 
our  resolutions  should  be  drawn  up,  not  with  the  formula: 
"  The  National  Assembly  decrees,"  etc.  ;  but  with  the 
formula  :  "  The  Representatives  of  the  People  remaining 
at  liberty  decree,"  etc.  In  this  manner  we  should  pre- 
serve all  the  authority  attached  to  the  office  of  the  Repre- 
sentatives of  the  People  without  associating  the  arrested 
Representatives  with  the  responsibility  of  our  actions. 
This  formula  had  the  additional  advantage  of  separating 
us  from  the  Right.  The  people  knew  that  the  only 
Representatives  remaining  free  were  the  members  of  the 
Left.     They  adopted  Noel  Parfait's  advice. 

I  read  aloud  the  decree  of  deposition.  It  was  couched 
in  these  words  : — 

"  Declaration. 

"  The  Representatives  of  the  people  remaining  at  liberty, 
by  virtue  of  Article  68  of  the  Constitution,  which  runs  as 
follows : — 

"  '  Article  68. — Every  measure  by  which  the  President 
of  the  Republic  dissolves  the  Assembly,  prorogues  it,  or 
obstructs  the  exercise  of  its  authority,  is  a  crime  of  High 
Treason. 

" '  By  this  action  alone  the  President  is  deposed  from 
his  office ;  the  citizens  are  bound  to  refuse  him  obedience  ; 
the  executive  power  passes  by  right  to  the  National 
Assembly  ;  the  judges  of  the  High  Court  of  Justice  should 
meet  together  immediately  under  penalty  of  treason,  and 
convoke  the  juries  in  a  place  which  they  shall  appoint  to 
proceed  to  the  judgment  of  the  President  and  his  accom- 
plices.' 

"  Decree : — 

"  Article  I. — Louis  Bonaparte  is  deposed  from  his  office 
of  President  of  the  Republic. 

"  Article  II. — All  citizens  and  public  officials  are  bound 
to  refuse  him  obedience  under  penalty  of  complicity. 

"Article  III. — The  judgment  drawn  up  on  December 


190  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

2d  by  the  High  Court  of  Justice,  and  which  declares 
Louis  Bonaparte  attainted  with  the  Crime  of  High  Treason, 
shall  be  published  and  executed.  Consequently  the  civil 
and  military  authorities  are  summoned  under  penalty  of 
Treason  to  lend  their  active  assistance  to  the  execution  of 
the  said  judgment. 

"  Given  at  Paris,  in  permanent  session,  December  3d, 
1851." 

The  decree  having  been  read,  and  voted  unanimously, 
we  signed  it,  and  the  Representatives  crowded  round  the 
table  to  add  their  signatures  to  ours.  Sain  remarked  that 
this  signing  took  time,  that  in  addition  we  numbered 
barely  more  than  sixty,  a  large  number  of  the  members 
of  the  Left  being  at  work  in  the  streets  in  insurrection. 
He  asked  if  the  Committee,  who  had  full  powers  from  the 
whole  of  the  Left,  had  any  objection  to  attach  to  the  de- 
cree the  names  of  all  the  Republican  Representatives  re- 
maining at  liberty,  the  absent  as  well  as  those  present. 
We  answered  that  the  decree  signed  by  all  would  as- 
suredly better  answer  its  purpose.  Besides,  it  was  the 
counsel  which  I  had  already  given.  Bancel  had  in  his 
pocket  on  old  number  of  the  Moniteur  containing  the  re- 
sult of  a  division. 

They  cut  out  a  list  of  the  names  of  the  members  of  the 
Left,  the  names  of  those  who  were  arrested  were  erased, 
and  the  list  was  added  to  the  decree.* 

The  name  of  Emile  de  Girardin  upon  this  list  caught 
my  eye.     He  was  still  present. 

"Do  you  sign  this  decree?"  I  asked  him. 

"  Unhesitatingly." 

"  In  that  case  will  you  consent  to  print  it  ?  " 

"  Immediately." 

He  continued, — 

"  Having  no  longer  any  presses,  as  I  have  told  you,  I 
can  only  print  it  as  a  handbill,  and  with  the  brush.  It 
takes  a  long  time,  but  by  eight  o'clock  this  evening  you 
shall  have  five  hundred  copies." 

"  And,"  continued  I,  "  you  persist  in  refusing  to  print 
the  appeal  to  arms?" 

"  I  do  persist." 

*  This  list,  which  belongs  to  History,  having  served  as  the  base  of 
the  proscription  list,  will  be  found  complete  in  the  sequel  to  this  book 
to  be  published  hereafter. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  191 

A  second  copy  was  made  of  the  decree,  which  Emile  de 
Girardin  took  away  with  him. 

The  deliberation  was  resumed.  At  each  moment  Rep- 
resentatives came  in  and  brought  items  of  news :  Amiens 
in  insurrection — Rheims  and  Rouen  in  motion,  and  march- 
ing on  Paris — General  Canrobert  resisting  the  coup  cVetat 
— General  Castellane  hesitating — the  Minister  of  the 
United  States  demanding  his  passports.  We  placed  little 
faith  in  these  rumors,  and  facts  proved  that  we  were 
right. 

Meanwhile  Jules  Favre  had  drawn  up  the  following  de- 
cree, which  he  proposed,  and  which  was  immediately 
adopted : — 

"DECREE. 

"French  Republic. 
'■'■Liberty, — Equality, — Fraternity. 

"  The  undersigned  Representatives  remaining  at  lib- 
erty, assembled  in  Permanent  Session, — 

"  Considering  the  arrest  of  the  majority  of  our  colleagues, 
and  the  urgency  of  the  moment : 

"  Considering  that  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  crime 
Louis  Bonaparte  has  not  contented  himself  with  multi- 
plying the  most  formidable  means  of  destruction  against 
the  lives  and  property  of  the  citizens  of  Paris,  that  he  has 
trampled  under  foot  every  law,  that  he  has  annihilated  all 
the  guarantees  of  civilized  nations  : 

"  Considering  that  these  criminal  madnesses  only  serve 
to  augment  the  violent  denunciation  of  every  conscience 
and  to  hasten  the  hour  of  national  vengeance,  but  that  it 
is  important  to  proclaim  the  Right : 

"  Decree : 

"  Art.  I. — The  State  of  Siege  is  raised  in  all  Depart- 
ments where  it  has  been  established,  the  ordinary  laws 
resume  their  authority. 

"  Art.  II. — It  is  enjoined  upon  all  military  leaders  undjr 
penalty  of  Treason  immediately  to  lay  down  the  extraor- 
dinary powers  which  have  been  conferred  upon  them. 

"Art.  III.— Officials  and  agents  of  the  public  force  are 
charged  under  penalty  of  treason  to  put  this  present 
decree  into  execution. 

"Given  in  Permanent  Session,  3d  December,  1851." 


192  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Madier  de  Montjau  and  De  Flotte  entered.  They  came 
from  outside.  They  had  been  in  all  the  districts  where 
the  conflict  was  proceeding,  they  had  seen  with  then  own 
eyes  the  hesitation  of  a  part  of  the  population  in  the  pres- 
ence of  these  words,  "  The  Law  of  the  81st  May  is  abol- 
ished, Universal  Suffrage  is  re-established."  The  placards 
of  Louis  Bonaparte  were  manifestly  working  mischief. 
It  was  necessary  to  oppose  effort  to  effort,  and  to  neglect 
nothing  which  could  open  the  eyes  of  the  people.  I  dic- 
tated the  following  Proclamation  : — 

"  Proclamation. 

s'  People  !  you  are  being  deceived. 

"  Louis  Bonaparte  says  that  he  has  re-established  you 
in  your  rights,  and  that  he  restores  to  you  Universal  Suf- 
frage. 

"  Louis  Bonaparte  has  lied. 

"Read  his  placards.  He  giants  you — what  infamous 
mockery  ! — the  right  of  conferring  on  him,  on  him  alone, 
the  Constituent  power ;  that  is  to  say,  the  Supreme 
power,  which  belongs  to  you.  He  grants  you  the  right  to 
appoint  him  Dictator  for  ten  years.  In  other  words,  he 
grants  you  the  right  of  abdicating  and  of  crowning  him. 
A  right  which  even  you  do  not  possess,  O  People  !  for  one 
generation  cannot  dispose  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  gen- 
eration which  shall  follow  it. 

"  Yes,  he  grants  to  you,  Sovereign,  the  right  of  giving 
yourself  a  master,  and  that  master  himself. 

"Hypocrisy  and  treason! 

"  People !  we  unmask  the  hypocrite.  It  is  for  you  to 
punish  the  traitor ! 

"  The  Committee  of  Resistance  : 

"Jules  Favre,  De  Flotte,  Carnot,  Madier  de  Montjau, 
Mathieu  (de  la  Drome),  Michel  de  Bourges,  Victor  Hugo." 

Baudin  had  fallen  heroically.  It  was  necessary  to  let 
the  People  know  of  his  death,  and  to  honor  his  memory. 
The  decree  below  was  voted  on  the  proposition  of  Michel 
de  Bourges : — 

"  Decree. 

"  The  Representatives  of  the  People  remaining  at  lib- 
erty considering  that  the  Representative  Baudin  has  died 


TTTE  niSTORT  OF  A  CRIME.  193 

Mi  the  barricade  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine  for  the  Re- 
public and  for  the  laws,  and  that  he  has  deserved  well  of 
his  country,  decree : 

"That  the  honors  of  the  Pantheon  are  adjudged  to 
Representative  Baudin. 

"Given  in  Permanent  Session,  3d  December,  1851." 

After  honor  to  the  dead  and  the  needs  of  the  conflict 
it  was  necessary  in  my  opinion  to  enunciate  immediately 
and  dictatorially  some  great  popular  benefit.  I  proposed 
the  abolition  of  the  octroi  duties  and  of  the  duty  on  liquors. 
This  objection  was  raised,  "  Xo  caresses  to  the  people ! 
After  victory,  we  will  see.  In  the  meantime  let  them  fight ! 
If  they  do  not  fight,  if  they  do  not  rise,  if  they  do  not  un- 
derstand that  it  is  for  them,  for  their  rights  that  we  the 
Representatives,  that  we  risk  our  heads  at  this  moment — 
if  they  leave  us  alone  at  the  breach,  in  the  presence  of 
the  coup  d'etat — it  is  because  they  are  not  worthy  of 
Liberty!" 

Bancel  remarked  that  the  abolition  of  the  octroi  duties 
and  the  duty  on  liquors  were  not  caresses  to  the  People, 
but  succor  to  the  poor,  a  great  economical  and  reparatory 
measure,  a  satisfaction  to  the  public  demand — a  satisfac- 
tion which  the  Right  had  always  obstinately  refused,  and 
that  the  Left,  master  of  the  situation,  ought  hasten  to  ac- 
cord. They  voted,  with  the  reservation  that  it  should 
not  be  published  until  after  victory,  the  two  decrees  in 
one ;  in  this  form  : — 

"  Decree. 

"The  Representatives  remaining  at  liberty  decree: 
"  The  Octroi  Duties  are  abolished  throughout  the  ex- 
tent of  the  territory  of  the  Republic. 

"Given  in  permanent  Session,  3d  December,  1851." 
Versigny,  with  a  copy  of  the  Proclamations  and  of  the 
Decree,  left  in  search  of  Iletzel.  Labrousse  also  left  with 
the  same  object.  They  settled  to  meet  at  eight  o'clock  in 
the  evening  at  the  house  of  the  former  member  of  the 
Provisional  Government  Marie,  Rue  Xeuve  des  Petits 
Champs. 

As  the  members  of  the  Committee  and  the  Representa- 
tives withdrew  I  was  told  that  some  one  had  asked  to 
speak  to  me.     I  went  into  a  sort  of  little  room  attached 
to  the  large  meeting-room,  and  I  found  there  a  man  in  a 
13 


J94  THE  711  STORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

blouse,  with  an  intelligent  and  sympathetic  air.  This 
man  had  a  roll  of  paper  in  his  hand. 

"  Citizen  Victor  Hugo,"  said  he  to  me,  "  you  have  no 
printing  office.  Here  are  the  means  which  will  enable 
you  to  dispense  with  one." 

He  unfolded  on  the  mantel-piece  the  roll  which  he  had 
in  his  hand.  It  was  a  species  of  blotting-book  made  of 
very  thin  blue  paper,  and  which  seemed  to  be  slightly 
oiled.  Between  each  leaf  of  blue  paper  there  was  a  sheet 
of  white  paper.  He  took  out  of  his  pocket  a  sort  of  blunt 
bodkin,  saying,  "The  first  thing  to  hand  will  serve  your 
purpose,  a  nail  or  a  match,"  and  he  traced  with  his  bodkin 
on  the  first  leaf  of  the  book  the  word  "Republic."  Then 
turning  over  the  leaves,  he  said,  "  Look  at  this." 

The  word  "  Republic "  was  reproduced  upon  the  fifteen 
or  twenty  white  leaves  which  the  hook  contained. 

He  added,  "This  paper  is  usually  used  to  trace  the 
designs  of  manufactured  fabrics.  I  thought  that  it  might 
be  useful  at  a  moment  like  this.  I  have  at  home  a  hun- 
dred books  like  this  on  which  I  can  make  a  hundred 
copies  of  what  you  want — a  Proclamation,  for  instance — 
in  the  same  space  of  time  that  it  takes  to  write  four  or 
five.  Write  something,  whatever  you  may  think  useful 
at  the  present  moment,  and  to-morrow  morning  five  hun- 
dred copies  shall  be  posted  throughout  Paris." 

I  had  none  of  the  documents  with  me  which  we  had 
just  drawn  up.  Versigny  had  gone  away  with  the  copies. 
I  took  a  sheet  of  paper,  and,  leaning  on  the  corner  of  the 
chimney-piece,  I  wrote  the  following  Proclamation  : — 

"  To  the  Army. 

"  Soldiers ! 

"  A  man  has  just  broken  the  Constitution.  He  tears  up 
the  oath  which  he  has  sworn  to  the  people;  he  suppresses 
the  law,  stifles  Right,  stains  Paris  with  blood,  chokes 
France,  betrays  the  Republic ! 

"  Soldiers,  this  man  involves  you  in  his  crime. 

"There  are  two  things  holy;  the  flag  which  represents 
military  honor  and  the  law  which  represents  the  National 
Right.  Soldiers,  the  greatest  of  outrages  is  the  flag  raised 
against  the  Law!  Follow  no  longer  the  wretched  man 
who  misleads  you.  Of  such  a  crime  French  soldiers 
should  be  the  avengers,  not  the  accomplices. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  195 

"  This  man  says  he  is  named  Bonaparte.  He  lies,  for 
Bonaparte  is  a  word  which  means  glory.  This  man  says 
that  he  is  named  Napoleon.  He  lies,  for  Napoleon  is  a 
word  which  means  genius.  As  for  him,  he  is  obscure  and 
insignificant.  Give  this  wretch  up  to  the  law.  Soldiers, 
he  is  a  false  Napoleon.  A  true  Napoleon  would  once  more 
give  you  a  Marengo ;  he  will  once  more  give  you  a 
Transnonain. 

"  Look  towards  the  true  function  of  the  French  army ; 
to  protect  the  country,  to  propagate  the  Revolution,  to 
free  the  people,  to  sustain  the  nationalities,  to  emancipate 
the  Continent,  to  break  chains  everywhere,  to  protect 
Right  everywhere,  this  is  your  part  amongst  the  armies  of 
Europe.    You  are  worthy  of  great  battle-fields. 

"  Soldiers,  the  French  Army  is  the  advanced  guard  of 
humanity. 

"Become  yourselves  again,  reflect;  acknowledge  your 
faults ;  rise  up !  Think  of  your  Generals  arrested,  taken 
by  the  collar  by  galley  sergeants  and  thrown  handcuffed 
into  robbers'  cells  !  The  malefactor,  who  is  at  the  Elysee, 
thinks  that  the  Army  of  France  is  a  band  of  mercenaries ; 
that  if  they  are  paid  and  intoxicated  they  will  obe)\  He 
sets  you  an  infamous  task,  he  causes  you  to  strangle,  in 
this  nineteenth  century,  and  in  Paris  itself,  Liberty, 
Progress,  and  Civilization.  He  makes  you — you,  the 
children  of  France — destroy  all  that  France  has  so 
gloriously  and  laboriously  built  up  during  the  three 
centuries  of  light  and  in  sixty  years  of  Revolution ! 
Soldiers  !  you  are  the  '  Grand  Army  ! '  respect  the  '  Grand 
Nation ! ' 

"  We,  citizens ;  we,  Representatives  of  the  People  and 
of  yourselves ;  we,  your  friends,  your  brothers ;  we,  who 
are  Law  and  Right ;  we,  who  rise  up  before  you,  holding 
out  our  arms  to  you,  and  whom  you  strike  blindly  with 
your  swords — do  you  know  what  drives  us  to  despair? 
It  is  not  to  see  our  blood  which  flows ;  it  is  to  see  your 
honor  which  vanishes. 

"  Soldiers !  one  step  more  in  the  outrage,  one  day  more 
with  Louis  Bonaparte,  and  you  are  lost  before  universal 
conscience.  The  men  who  command  you  are  outlaws. 
They  are  not  generals — they  are  criminals.  The  garb  of 
the  galley  slave  awaits  them  ;  see  it  already  on  their 
shoulders.      Soldiers  !   there  is  yet  time — Stop  !      Come 


196  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CBIME. 

back  to  the  country !  Come  back  to  the  Republic !  If 
you  continue,  do  you  know  what  History  will  say  of  you  V 
It  will  say,  '  They  have  trampled  under  the  feet  of  their 
horses  and  crushed  beneath  the  wheels  of  their  cannon  all 
the  laws  of  their  country  ;  they,  French  soldiers,  they  have 
dishonored  the  anniversary  of  Austerlitz,  and  by  their 
fault,  by  their  crime,  the  name  of  Napoleon  sprinkles  as 
much  shame  to-day  upon  France  as  in  other  times  it  has 
showered  glory ! 

"  French  soldiers !  cease  to  render  assistance  to  crime ! " 
My  colleagues  of  the  Committee  having  left,  I  could  not 
consult  them — time  pressed — I  signed : 

"  For  the  Representatives  of  the  People  remaining  at 
liberty,  the  Representative  member  of  the  Committee  of 
Resistance, 

"  Victor  Hugo." 

The  man  in  the  blouse  took  away  the  Proclamation  say- 
ing, "You  will  see  it  again  to-morrow  morning."  He 
kept  his  word.  I  found  it  the  next  day  placarded  in  the 
Rue  Rambuteau,  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  l'Homme- 
Arme  and  the  Chapelle-Saint-Denis.  To  those  who  were 
not  in  the  secret  of  the  process  it  seemed  to  be  written 
by  hand  in  blue  ink. 

I  thought  of  going  home.  When  I  reached  the  Rue  de 
la  Tour  d'Auvergne,  opposite  my  door,  it  happened  curi- 
ously and  by  some  chance  to  be  half  open.  I  pushed  it, 
and  entered.  I  crossed  the  courtyard,  and  went  upstairs 
without  meeting  any  one. 

My  wife  and  my  daughter  were  in  the  drawing-room 
round  the  fire  with  Madame  Paul  Meurice.  I  entered 
noiselessly ;  they  were  conversing  in  a  low  tone.  They 
were  talking  of  Pierre  Dupont,  the  popular  song-writer, 
who  had  come  to  me  to  ask  for  arms.  Isidore,  who  had 
been  a  soldier,  had  some  pistols  by  him,  and  had  lent  three 
to  Pierre  Dupont  for  the  conflict. 

Suddenly  these  ladies  turned  their  heads  and  saw  me 
close  to  them.  My  daughter  screamed.  "Oh,  go  away," 
cried  my  wife,  throwing  her  arms  round  my  neck,  "  you 
are  lost  if  you  remain  here  a  moment.  You  will  be  ar- 
rested here ! "  Madame  Paul  Meurice  added,  "  They  are 
looking  for  you.  The  police  were  here  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  ago."     I  could  not  succeed  in  reassuring  them.     They 


THE  HISTOBT  OF  A  CRIME.  197 

gave  me  a  packet  of  letters  offering  me  places  of  refuge 
for  the  night,  some  of  them  signed  with  names  unknown 
to  me.  After  some  moments,  seeing  them  more  and  more 
frightened,  I  went  away.  My  wife  said  to  me,  "  What  you 
are  doing,  you  are  doing  for  justice.  Go,  continue ! "  I 
embraced  my  wife  and  my  daughter ;  five  months  have 
elapsed  at  the  time  when  I  am  writing  these  lines.  When 
I  went  into  exile  they  remained  near  my  son  Victor  in 
prison  ;  I  have  not  seen  them  since  that  day. 

I  left  as  I  had  entered.  In  the  porter's  lodge  there  were 
only  two  or  three  little  children  seated  round  a  lamp, 
laughing  and  looking  at  pictures  in  a  book. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    ARCHBISHOP. 

On  this  gloomy  and  tragical  day  an  idea  struck  one  of 
the  people. 

He  was  a  workman  belonging  to  the  honest  but  almost 
imperceptible  minority  of  Catholic  Democrats.  The 
double  exaltation  of  his  mind,  revolutionary  on  one  side, 
mystical  on  the  other,  caused  him  to  be  somewhat  dis- 
trusted by  the  people,  even  by  his  comrades  and  his 
friends.  Sufficiently  devout  to  be  called  a  Jesuit  by  the 
Socialists,  sufficiently  Republican  to  be  called  a  Red  by 
the  Reactionists,  he  formed  an  exception  in  the  workshops 
of  the  Faubourg.  Now,  what  is  needed  in  these  supreme 
crises  to  seize  and  govern  the  masses  are  men  of  excep- 
tional genius,  not  men  of  exceptional  opinion.  There  is 
no  revolutionary  originality.  In  order  to  be  something, 
in  the  time  of  regeneration  and  in  the  days  of  social  com- 
bat, one  must  bathe  fully  in  those  powerful  homogeneous 
mediums  which  are  called  parties.  Great  currents  of  men 
follow  great  currents  of  ideas,  and  the  true  revolutionary 
leader  is  he  who  knows  how  best  to  drive  the  former  in 
accordance  with  the  latter. 

Now  the  Gospel  is  in  accordance  with  the  Revolution, 
but  Catholicism  is  not.  This  is  due  to  the  fact  that  in  the 
main  the  Papacy  is  not  in  accordance  with  the  Gospel. 
One  can  easily  understand  a  Christian  Republican,  one 


198  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

cannot  understand  a  Catholic  Democrat.  It  is  a  combina- 
tion of  two  opposites.  It  is  a  mind  in  which  the  negative 
bars  the  way  to  the  affirmative.     It  is  a  neuter. 

Now  in  time  revolution,  whoever  is  neuter  of  is  impotent. 
Nevertheless,  during  the  first  hours  of  resistance  against 
the  coup  d'etat  the  democratic  Catholic  workman,  whose 
noble  effort  we  are  here  relating,  threw  himself  so  resol- 
utely into  the  cause  of  Justice  and  of  Truth,  that  in  a  few 
moments  he  transformed  distrust  into  confidence,  and  was 
hailed  by  the  people.  He  showed  such  gallantry  at  the 
rising  of  the  barricade  of  the  Pue  Aumaire  that  with  an 
unanimous  voice  they  appointed  him  their  leader.  At  the 
moment  of  the  attack  he  defended  it  as  he  had  built  it, 
with  ardor.  That  was  a  sad  but  glorious  battle-field ; 
most  of  his  companions  were  killed,  and  he  escaped  only 
by  a  miracle. 

However,  he  succeeded  in  returning  home,  saying  to 
himself  bitterly,  "  All  is  lost." 

It  seemed  evident  to  him  that  the  great  masses  of  the 
people  would  not  rise.  Thenceforward  it  appeared  im- 
possible to  conquer  the  coup  d'etat  by  a  revolution ;  it 
could  be  only  combated  by  legality.  What  had  been 
the  risk  at  the  beginning  became  the  hope  at  the  end,  for 
he  believed  the  end  to  be  fatal,- and  at  hand.  In  his 
opinion  it  was  necessary,  as  the  people  were  defaulters, 
to  try  now  to  arouse  the  middle  classes.  Let  one  legion 
of  National  Guards  go  out  in  arms,  and  the  Ely  see  was 
lost.  For  this  a  decisive  blow  must  be  struck — the  heart 
of  the  middle  classes  must  be  reached — the  "  bourgeois  " 
must  be  inspired  by  a  grand  spectacle  which  should  not 
be  a  terrifying  spectacle. 

It  was  then  that  this  thought  came  to  this  workman, 
"  Write  to  the  Archbishop  of  Paris." 

The  workman  took  a  pen,  and  from  his  humble  garret 
he  wrote  to  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  an  enthusiastic  and 
earnest  letter  in  which  he,  a  man  of  the  people  and  a 
believer,  said  this  to  his  Bishop ;  we  give  the  substance 
of  his  letter : — 

"  This  is  a  solemn  hour,  Civil  War  sets  by  the  ears  the 
Army  and  People,  blood  is  being  shed.  When  blood 
flows  the  Bishop  goes  forth.  M.  Sibour  should  follow  in 
the  path  of  M.  Afire.  The  example  is  great,  the  oppor- 
tunity is  still  greater. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  199 

"Let  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  followed  by  all  his 
clergy,  the  Pontifical  cross  before  him,  his  mitre  on  his 
head,  go  forth  in  procession  through  the  streets.  Let 
him  summon  to  him  the  National  Assembly  and  the 
High  Court,  the  Legislators  in  their  sashes,  the  Judges  in 
their  scarlet  robes ;  let  him  summon  to  him  the  citizens, 
let  him  summon  to  him  the  soldiers,  let  him  go  straight 
to  the  Elysee.  Let  him  raise  his  hand  in  the  name  of 
Justice  against  the  man  who  is  violating  the  laws,  and 
in  the  name  of  Jesus  against  the  man  who  is  shedding 
blood.  Simply  with  his  raised  hand  he  will  crush  the 
coup  d'etat. 

"  And  he  will  place  his  statue  by  the  side  of  M.  Affre, 
and  it  will  be  said  that  twice  two  Archbishops  of  Paris 
have  trampled  Civil  War  beneath  their  feet. 

"The  Church  is  holy,  but  the  Country  is  sacred. 
There  are  times  when  the  Church  should  succor  the 
Country." 

The  letter  being  finished,  he  signed  it  with  his  work- 
man's signature. 

But  now  a  difficulty  arose  ;  how  should  it  be  conveyed 
to  its  destination  ? 

Take  it  himself ! 

But  would  he,  a  mere  workman  in  a  blouse,  be  allowed 
to  penetrate  to  the  Archbishop ! 

And  then,  in  order  to  reach  the  Archiepiscopal  Palace, 
he  would  have  to  cross  those  very  quarters  in  insurrec- 
tion, and  where,  perhaps,  the  resistance  was  still  active. 
He  would  have  to  pass  through  streets  obstructed  by 
troops,  he  would  be  arrested  and  searched;  his  hands 
smelt  of  powder,  he  would  be  shot ;  and  the  letter  would 
not  reach  its  destination. 

What  was  to  be  done  ? 

At  the  moment  when  he  had  almost  despaired  of  a 
solution,  the  name  of  Arnauld  de  l'Ariege  came  to  his 
mind. 

Arnauld  de  l'Ariege  was  a  Representative  after  his 
own  heart.  Arnauld  de  l'Ariege  was  a  noble  character. 
He  was  a  Catholic  Democrat  like  the  workman.  At  the 
Assembly  he  raised  aloft,  but  he  bore  nearly  alone,  that 
banner  so  little  followed  which  aspires  to  ally  the  De- 
mocracy with  the  Church.  Arnauld  de  l'Ariege,  young, 
handsome,  eloquent,  enthusiastic,  gentle,  and  firm,  com- 


200  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

bined  the  attributes  of  the  Tribune  with  the  faith  of  the 
knight.  His  open  nature,  without  wishing  to  detach 
itself  from  Rome,  worshipped  Liberty.  He  had  two  prin- 
ciples, but  he  had  not  two  faces.  On  the  whole  the  demo- 
cratic spirit  preponderated  in  him.  He  said  to  me  one 
day,  "  I  give  my  hand  to  Victor  Hugo.  I  do  not  give  it 
to  Montalembert." 

The  workman  knew  him.  He  had  often  written  to 
him,  and  had  sometimes  seen  him. 

Arnauld  de  l'Ariege  lived  in  a  district  which  had 
remained  almost  free. 

The  workman  went  there  without  delay. 

Like  the  rest  of  us,  as  has  been  seen,  Arnauld  de 
l'Ariege  had  taken  part  in  the  conflict.  Like  most  of  the 
Representatives  of  the  Left,  he  had  not  returned  home 
since  the  morning  of  the  2d.  Nevertheless,  on  the  second 
day,  he  thought  of  his  young  wife  whom  he  had  left  with- 
out knowing  if  he  should  see  her  again,  of  his  baby  of  six 
months  old  which  she  was  suckling,  and  which  he  had 
not  kissed  for  so  many  hours,  of  that  beloved  hearth,  of 
which  at  certain  moments  one  feels  an  absolute  need  to 
obtain  a  fleeting  glimpse,  he  could  no  longer  resist ;  arrest, 
Mazas,  the  cell,  the  hulks,  the  firing  party,  all  vanished, 
the  idea  of  danger  was  obliterated,  he  went  home. 

It  was  precisely  at  that  moment  that  the  workman 
arrived  there. 

Arnauld  de  l'Ariege  received  him,  read  his  letter,  and 
approved  of  it. 

Arnauld  de  l'Ariege  knew  the  Archbishop  of  Paris 
personally. 

M.  Sibour,  a  Republican  priest  appointed  Archbishop  of 
Paris  by  General  Cavaignac,  was  the  true  chief  of  the 
Church  dreamed  of  by  the  liberal  Catholicism  of  Arnauld 
de  l'Ariege.  On  behalf  of  the  Archbishop,  Arnauld  de 
l'Ariege  represented  in  the  Assembly  that  Catholicism 
which  M.  de  Montalembert  perverted.  The  democratic 
Representative  and  the  Republic  Archbishop  had  at  times 
frequent  conferences,  in  which  acted  as  intermediatory 
the  Abbe  Maret,  an  intelligent  priest,  a  friend  of  the  people 
and  of  progress,  Vicar-General  of  Paris,  who  has  since 
been  Bishop  inpartibus  of  Surat.  Some  days  previously 
Arnauld  had  seen  the  Archbishop,  and  had  received  his 
complaints  of  the  encroachments  of  the   Clerical  party 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  201 

upon  the  episcopal  authority,  and  he  even  proposed  shortly 
to  interpellate  the  Ministry  on  this  subject  and  to  take 
the  question  into  the  Tribune. 

Arnauld  added  to  the  workman's  letter  a  letter  of  in- 
troduction, signed  by  himself,  and  enclosed  the  two  letters 
in  the  same  envelope. 

But  here  the  same  question  arose. 

How  was  the  letter  to  be  delivered  ? 

Arnauld,  for  still  weightier  reasons  than  those  of  the 
workman,  could  not  take  it  himself. 

And  time  pressed ! 

His  wife  saw  his  difficulty  and  quietly  said, — 

"  I  will  take  charge  of  it." 

Madame  Arnauld  de  l'Ariege,  handsome  and  quite 
young,  married  scarcely  two  years,  was  the  daughter  of 
the  Republican  ex-Constituent  Guichard,  worthy  daughter 
of  such  a  father,  and  worthy  wife  of  such  a  husband. 

They  were  fighting  in  Paris  ;  it  was  necessary  to  face 
the  dangers  of  the  streets,  to  pass  among  musket-balls,  to 
risk  her  life. 

Arnauld  de  l'Ariege  hesitated. 

"  What  do  you  want  to  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  will  take  this  letter." 

"  You  yourself  ?  " 

"  I  myself." 

"  But  there  is  danger." 

She  raised  her  eyes,  and  answered, — 

"  Did  I  make  that  objectiou  to  you  when  you  left  me 
the  day  before  yesterday  ?  " 

He  kissed  her  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  answered, 
"  Go." 

But  the  police  of  the  coup  d'etat  were  suspicious,  many 
women  were  searched  while  going  through  the  streets  ; 
this  letter  might  be  found  on  Madame  Arnauld.  Where 
could  this  letter  be  hidden  ? 

"I  will  take  my  baby  with  me,"  said  Madame  Arnauld. 

She  undid  the  linen  of  her  little  girl,  hid  the  letter  there, 
and  refastened  the  swaddling  band. 

When  this  was  finished  the  father  kissed  his  child  on 
the  forehead,  and  the  mother  exclaimed  laughingly, — 

"Oh,  the  little  Red!  She  is  only  six  months'  old,  and 
she  is  already  a  conspirator!" 

Madame  Arnauld  reached  the  Archbishop's  Palace  with 


202  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

some  difficulty.  Tier  carriage  was  obliged  to  take  a  long 
round.  Nevertheless  she  arrived  there.  She  asked  for 
the  Archbishop.  A  woman  with  a  child  in  her  arms  could 
not  be  a  very  terrible  visitor,  and  she  was  allowed  to 
enter. 

But  she  lost  herself  in  courtyards  and  staircases.  She 
was  seeking  her  way  somewhat  discouraged,  when  she 
met  the  Abbe  Maret.  She  knew  him.  She  addressed 
him.  She  told  him  the  object  of  her  expedition.  The 
Abbe  Maret  read  the  workman's  letter,  and  was  seized 
with  enthusiasm:  "This  may  save  all,"  said  he. 

He  added,  "Follow  me,  madam,  I  will  introduce  you." 

The  Archbishop  of  Paris  was  in  the  room  which  adjoins 
his  study.  The  Abbe  Maret  ushered  Madame  Arnauld 
into  the  study,  informed  the  Archbishop,  and  a  moment 
later  the  Archbishop  entered.  Besides  the  Abbe  Maret, 
the  Abbe  Deguerry,  the  Cure  of  the  Madeleine,  was  with 
him. 

Madame  Arnauld  handed  to  M.  Sibour  the  two  letters  of 
her  husband  and  the  workman.  The  Archbishop  read 
them,  and  remained  thoughtful. 

"  What  answer  am  I  to  take  back  to  my  husband  ?  " 
asked  Madame  Arnauld. 

"  Madame,"  replied  the  Archbishop,  "  it  is  too  late. 
This  should  have  been  done  before  the  struggle  began. 
Now,  it  would  be  only  to  risk  the  shedding  of  more  blood 
than  perhaps  has  yet  been  spilled." 

The  Abbe  Deguerry  was  silent.  The  Abbe  Maret  tried 
respectfully  to  turn  the  mind  of  his  Bishop  towards  the 
grand  effort  counselled  by  the  workman.  He  spoke  elo- 
quently. He  laid  great  stress  upon  this  argument,  that 
the  appearance  of  the  Archbishop  would  bring  about  a 
manifestation  of  the  National  Guard,  and  that  a  mani- 
festation of  the  National  Guard  would  compel  the  Elysee 
to  draw  back. 

"  No,"  said  the  Archbishop,  "  you  hope  for  the  impos- 
sible. The  Elysee  will  not  draw  back  now.  You  believe 
that  I  should  stop  the  bloodshed — not  at  all;  I  should 
cause  it  to  flow,  and  that  in  torrents.  The  National 
Guard  has  no  longer  any  influence.  If  the  legions  appeared, 
the  Elysee  could  crush  the  legions  by  the  regiments.  And 
then,  what  is  an  Archbishop  in  the  presence  of  the  Man 
of  the  coup  d'etat?    Where  is  the  oath?    Where  is  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  203 

sworn  faith?  Where  is  the  Respect  for  Right?  A  man 
does  not  turn  back  when  he  has  made  three  steps  in  such 
a  crime.  No !  no !  Do  not  hope.  This  man  will  do  all. 
He  has  struck  the  Law  in  the  hand  of  the  Representatives. 
He  will  strike  God  in  mine." 

And  he  dismissed  Madame  Arnauld  with  the  look  of  a 
man  overwhelmed  with  sorrow. 

Let  us  do  the  duty  of  the  historian.  Six  weeks  after- 
wards, in  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame,  some  one  was  sing- 
ing the  Te  Deum  in  honor  of  the  treason  of  December — 
thus  making  God  a  partner  in  a  crime. 

This  man  was  the  Archbishop  Sibour. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MOUNT    VALERIEN. 

Of  the  two  hundred  and  thirty  Representatives  prisoners 
at  the  barracks  of  the  Quaid'Orsay  fifty-three  had  been 
sent  to  Mount  Valerien,  They  loaded  them  in  four  police 
vans.  Some  few  remained  who  were  packed  in  an 
omnibus.  MM.  Benoist  d'Azy,  Falloux,  Piscatory,  Vati- 
mesnil,  were  locked  in  the  wheeled  cells,  as  also  Eugene 
Sue  and  Esquiros.  The  worthy  M.  Gustave  de  Beaumont, 
a  great  upholder  of  the  cellular  system,  rode  in  a  cell 
vehicle.  It  is  not  an  undesirable  thing,  as  we  have  said, 
that  the  legislator  should  taste  of  the  law. 

The  Commandant  of  Mount  Valerien  appeared  under 
the  archway  of  the  fort  to  receive  the  Representative 
prisoners. 

He  at  first  made  some  show  of  registering  them  in  the 
jailer's  book.  General  Oudinot,  under  whom  he  had 
served,  rebuked  him  severely, — 

"  Do  you  know  me  ?  " 

"Yes,  General." 

"  Well  then,  let  that  suffice.     Ask  no  more." 

"Yes,"  said  Tamisier.  "Ask  more  and  salute.  We 
are  more  than  the  Army  ;  we  are  France." 

The  commandant  understood.  From  that  moment  he 
was  hat  in  hand  before  the  generals,  and  bowed  low  be- 
fore the  Representatives. 


204  TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

They  led  them  to  the  barracks  of  the  fort  and  shut 
them  up  promiscuously  in  a  dormitory,  to  which  they 
added  fresh  heds,  and  which  the  soldiers  had  just  quitted. 
They  spent  their  first  night  there.  The  beds  touched 
each  other.     The  sheets  were  dirty. 

Next  morning,  owing  to  a  few  words  which  had  been 
heard  outside,  the  rumor  spread  amongst  them  that  the 
fifty-three  were  to  be  sorted,  and  that  the  Republicans 
were  to  be  placed  by  themselves.  Shortly  afterwards 
the  rumor  was  confirmed.  Madame  de  Luynes  gained 
admission  to  her  husband,  and  brought  some  items  of 
news.  It  was  asserted,  amongst  other  things,  that  the 
Keeper  of  the  Seals  of  the  coup  d'etat,  the  man  who 
signed  himself  Eugene  Rouher,  "  Minister  of  Justice," 
had  said,  "  Let  them  set  the  men  of  the  Right  at  liberty, 
and  send  the  men  of  the  Left  to  the  dungeon.  If  the 
populace  stirs  they  will  answer  for  everything.  As  a 
guarantee  for  the  submission  of  the  Faubourgs  we  shall 
have  the  head  of  the  Reds." 

We  do  not  believe  that  M.  Rouher  uttered  these  words, 
in  which  there  is  so  much  audacity.  At  that  moment  M. 
Rouher  did  not  possess  any.  Appointed  Minister  on  the 
2d  December,  he  temporized,  lie  exhibited  a  vague 
prudery,  he  did  not  venture  to  install  himself  in  the  Place 
Vendome.  Was  all  that  was  being  done  quite  correct? 
In  certain  minds  the  doubt  of  success  changes  into  scruples 
of  conscience.  To  violate  every  law,  to  perjure  oneself,  to 
strangle  Right,  to  assassinate  the  country,  are  all  these 
proceedings  wholly  honest  ?  While  the  deed  is  not  ac- 
complished they  hesitate.  When  the  deed  has  succeeded 
they  throw  themselves  upon  it.  Where  there  is  victory 
there  is  no  longer  treason;  nothing  serves  like  success 
to  cleanse  and  render  acceptable  that  unknown  thing 
which  is  called  crime.  During  the  first  moments  M. 
Rouher  reserved  himself.  Later  on  he  has  been  one  of 
the  most  violent  advisers  of  Louis  Bonaparte.  It  is  all 
very  simple.  His  fear  beforehand  explains  his  subsequent 
zeal. 

The  truth  is,  that  these  threatening  words  had  been 
spoken  not  by  Rouher,  but  by  Persigny. 

M.  de  Luynes  imparted  to  his  colleagues  what  was  in 
preparation,  and  warned  them  that  they  would  be  asked 
for  their  names  in  order  that  the  white  sheep  might  be 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  205 

separated  from  the  scarlet  goats.  A  murmur  which 
seemed  to  be  unanimous  arose.  These  generous  mani- 
festations did  honor  to  the  Representatives  of  the  Right. 

"  No  !  no !  Let  us  name  no  one,  let  us  not  allow  our- 
selves to  be  sorted,"  exclaimed  M.  Gustave  de  Beaumont. 

M.  de  Vatimesnil  added,  "  We  have  come  in  here  all 
together,  we  ought  to  go  out  all  together." 

Nevertheless  a  few  moments  afterwards  Antony  Thouret 
was  informed  that  a  list  of  names  was  being  secretly  pre- 
pared, and  that  the  Royalist  Representatives  were  invited 
to  sign  it.  They  attributed,  doubtless  wrongly,  this  un- 
worthy resolution  to  the  honorable  M.  de  Falloux. 

Antony  Thouret  spoke  somewhat  warmly  in  the  centre 
of  the  group,  which  were  muttering  together  in  the  dor- 
mitory. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  a  list  of  names  is  being  pre- 
pared. This  would  be  an  unworthy  action.  Yesterday 
at  the  Mairie  of  the  Tenth  Arrondissement  you  said  to 
us,  '  There  is  no  longer  Left  or  Right :  we  are  the 
Assembly.'  You  believed  in  the  victory  of  the  People, 
and  you  sheltered  yourself  behind  us  Republicans.  To- 
day you  believe  in  the  victory  of  the  coup  oVttat,  and  you 
would  again  become  Royalists,  to  deliver  us  up,  us 
Democrats!     Truly  excellent.     Very  well!     Pray  do  so." 

A  universal  shout  arose. 

"No!  No!  No  more  Right  or  Left!  All  are  the 
Assembly.     The  same  lot  for  all !  " 

The  list  which  had  been  begun  was  seized  and  burnt. 

"By  decision  of  the  Chamber,"  said  M.  de  Vatimesnil, 
smiling.     A  Legitimist  Representative  added, — 

"  Of  the  Chamber  ?    No,  let  us  say  of  the  Chambered." 

A  few  moments  afterwards  the  Commissary  of  the  fort 
appeared,  and  in  polite  phrases,  which,  however,  savored 
somewhat  of  authority,  invited  each  of  the  Representatives 
of  the  People  to  declare  his  name  in  order  that  each  might 
be  allotted  to  his  ultimate  destination. 
.    A  shout  of  indignation  answered  him. 

"  No  one !  No  one  will  give  his  name,"  said  General 
Oudinot. 

Gustave  de  Beaumont  added,— 

"  We  all  bear  the  same  name  :  Representatives  of  the 
People." 

The  Commissary  saluted  them  and  went  away. 


206  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

After  two  hours  he  came  back.  He  was  accompanied 
this  time  by  the  Chief  of  the  Ushers  of  the  Assembly,  a 
man  named  Duponceau,  a  species  of  arrogant  fellow  with 
a  red  face  and  white  hair,  who  on  grand  days  strutted  at 
the  foot  of  the  Tribune  with  a  silvered  collar,  a  chain 
over  his  stomach,  and  a  sword  between  his  legs. 

The  Commissary  said  to  Duponceau, — 

"  Do  your  duty." 

What  the  Commissary  meant,  and  what  Duponceau 
understood  by  this  word  duty,  was  that  the  Usher  should 
denounce  the  Legislators.  Like  the  lackey  who  betrays 
his  masters. 

It  was  done  in  this  manner. 

This  Duponceau  dared  to  look  in  the  faces  of  the  Rep- 
resentatives by  turn,  and  he  named  them  one  after  the 
other  to  a  policeman,  who  took  notes  of  them. 

The  Sieur  Duponceau  was  sharply  castigated  while 
holding  this  review. 

"  M.  Duponceau,"  said  M.  Vatimesnil  to  him,  "  I  always 
thought  you  an  idiot,  but  I  believed  you  to  be  an  honest 
man." 

The  severest  rebuke  was  administered  by  Antony 
Thouret.  He  looked  Sieur  Duponceau  in  the  face,  and 
said  to  him,  "  You  deserve  to  be  named  Dupin." 

The  Usher  in  truth  was  worthy  of  being  the  President, 
and  the  President  was  worthy  of  being  the  Usher. 

The  flock  having  been  counted,  the  classification  having 
been  made,  there  were  found  to  be  thirteen  goats :  ten 
Representatives  of  the  Left ;  Eugene  Sue,  Esquiros, 
Antony  Thouret,  Pascal  Duprat,  Chanay,  Fayolle,  Paulin 
Durrieu,  Benoit,  Tamisier,  Tailard  Laterisse,  and  three 
members  of  the  Right,  who  since  the  preceding  day  had 
suddenly  become  Red  in  the  eyes  of  the  coup  d'etat  ; 
Oudinot,  Piscatory,  and  Thuriot  de  la  Rosiere. 

They  confined  these  separately,  and  they  set  at  liberty 
one  by  one  the  forty  who  remained. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  207 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE     LIGHTNING   BEGINS    TO    FLASn    AMONGST    THE    PEOPLE. 

The  evening  wore  a  threatening  aspect. 

Groups  were  formed  on  the  Boulevards.  As  night 
advanced  they  grew  larger  and  became  mobs,  which 
speedily  mingled  together,  and  only  formed  one  crowd. 
An  enormous  crowd,  reinforced  and  agitated  by  tributary 
currents  from  the  side-streets,  jostling  one  against  another, 
surging,  stormy,  and  whence  ascended  an  ominous  hum. 
This  hubbub  resolved  itself  into  one  word,  into  one  name 
which  issued  simultaneously  from  every  mouth,  and 
which  expressed  the  whole  of  the  situation :  "  Sou- 
louque  !  "  *  Throughout  that  long  line  from  the  Madeleine 
to  the  Bastille,  the  roadway  nearly  everywhere,  except 
(was  this  on  purpose  ?)  at  the  Porte  St.  Denis  and  the  Porte 
St.  Martin,  was  occupied  by  the  soldiers — infantry  and 
cavalry,  ranged  in  battle-order,  the  artillery  batteries 
being  harnessed;  on  the  pavements  on  each  side  of  this 
motionless  and  gloomy  mass,  bristling  with  cannon, 
swords,  and  bayonets,  flowed  a  torrent  of  angry  people. 
On  all  sides  public  indignation  prevailed.  Such  was  the 
aspect  of  the  Boulevards.  At  the  Bastille  there  was  a 
dead  calm. 

At  the  Porte  St.  Martin  the  crowd,  hemmed  together 
and  uneasy,  spoke  in  low  tones.  Groups  of  workmen 
talked  in  whispers.  The  Society  of  the  10th  December 
made  some  efforts  there.  Men  in  white  blouses,  a  sort  of 
uniform  which  the  police  assumed  during  those  days, 
said,  "Let  us  leave  them  alone;  let  the  'Twenty-five 
francs '  settle  it  amongst  themselves  !  They  deserted  us 
in  June,  1848;  to-day  let  them  get  out  of  the  difficulty 
alone !     It  does  not  concern  us ! "     Other  blouses,  blue 

*A  popular  nickname  for  Lonis  Bonaparte.  Faustin  Soulouque 
was  the  negro  Emperor  of  Hayti,  who,  when  President  of  the  Repub- 
lic, had  carried  otit  a  somewhat  similar  coup  d'etat  in  184S,  being 
subsequently  elected  Emperor.  He  treated  the  Republicans  with 
great  cruelty,  putting  most  of  them  to  death. 


208  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

blouses,  answered  them,  "  We  know  what  we  have  to  do. 
This  is  only  the  beginning,  wait  and  see." 

Others  told  how  the  barricades  of  the  Rue  Aumaire 
were  being  rebuilt,  how  a  large  number  of  persons  had 
already  been  killed  there,  how  they  fired  without  any 
summons,  how  the  soldiers  were  drunk,  how  at  various 
points  in  the  district  there  were  ambulances  already 
crowded  with  killed  and  wounded.  All  this  was  said 
seriously,  without  loud  speaking,  without  gesture,  in  a 
confidential  tone.  From  time  to  time  the  crowd  were 
silent  and  listened,  and  distant  firing  was  heard. 

The  groups  said,  "Now  they  are  beginning  to  tear 
down  the  curtain." 

We  were  holding  Permanent  Session  at  Marie's  house 
in  the  Rue  Croix  des  Petits  Champs.  Promises  of  co-op- 
eration poured  in  upon  us  from  every  side.  Several  of 
our  colleagues,  who  had  not  been  able  to  find  us  on  the 
previous  day,  had  joined  us,  amongst  others  Emmanuel 
Arago,  gallant  son  of  an  illustrious  father ;  Farconnet 
and  Roussel  (de  l'Yonne),  and  some  Parisian  celebrities, 
amongst  whom  was  the  young  and  already  well-known 
defender  of  the  Avenement  du  Peuple,  M.  Desmarets. 

Two  eloquent  men,  Jules  Favre  and  Alexander  Rey, 
seated  at  a  large  table  near  the  window  of  the  small 
room,  were  drawing  up  a  Proclamation  to  the  National 
Guard.  In  the  large  room  Sain,  seated  in  an  arm-chair, 
his  feet  on  the  dog-irons,  drying  his  wet  boots  before  a 
huge  fire,  said,  with  that  calm  and  courageous  smile  which 
he  wore  in  the  Tribune,  "  Things  are  looking  badly  for 
us,  but  well  for  the  Republic.  Martial  law  is  proclaimed  ; 
it  will  be  carried  out  with  ferocity,  above  all  against  us. 
We  are  laid  in  wait  for,  followed,  tracked,  there  is  little 
probability  that  we  shall  escape.  To-day,  to-morrow, 
perhaps  in  ten  minutes,  there  will  be  a  '  miniature 
massacre'  of  Representatives.  We  shall  be  taken  here  or 
elsewhere,  shot  down  on  the  spot  or  killed  with  bayonet 
thrusts.  They  will  parade  our  corpses,  and  we  must 
hope  that  that  will  at  length  raise  the  people  and  over- 
throw Bonaparte.     We  are  dead,  but  Bonaparte  is  lost. 

At  eight  o'clock,  as  Emile  de  Girardin  had  promised, 
we  received  from  the  printing  office  of  the  Presse  five 
hundred  copies  of  the  decree  of  deposition  and  of  outlawry 
endorsing  the  judgment  of  the  High  Court,  and  with  all 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  GRIME.  209 

our  signatures  attached.  It  was  a  placard  twice  as  large 
as  one's  hand,  and  printed  on  paper  used  for  proofs. 
Noel  Parfait  Drought  us  the  five  hundred  copies,  still 
damp,  between  his  waistcoat  and  his  shirt.  Thirty  Rep- 
resentatives divided  the  bills  amongst  them,  and  we  sent 
them  on  the  Boulevards  to  distribute  the  Decree  to  the 
People. 

The  effect  of  this  Decree  falling  in  the  midst  of  the 
crowd  was  marvellous.  Some  cafes  had  remained  open, 
people  eagerly  snatched  the  bills,  they  pressed  round  the 
lighted  shop  windows,  they  crowded  under  the  street 
lamps.  Some  mounted  on  kerbstones  or  on  tables,  and 
read  aloud  the  Decree. — "  That  is  it !  Bravo  !  "  cried  the 
people.  "  The  signatures  !  "  "  The  signatures !  "  they 
shouted.  The  signatures  were  read  out,  and  at  each 
popular  name  the  crowd  applauded.  Charamaule,  merry 
and  indignant,  wandered  through  the  groups,  distributing 
copies  of  the  Decree  ;  his  great  stature,  his  loud  and  bold 
words,  the  packet  of  handbills  which  he  raised,  and  waved 
above  his  head,  caused  all  hands  to  be  stretched  out  to- 
wards him.  "Shout 'Down  with  Soulouque ! '"  said  he, 
"and  you  shall  have  some."  All  this  in  the  presence  of 
the  soldiers.  Even  a  sergeant  of  the  line,  noticing  Chara- 
maule, stretched  out  his  hand  for  one  of  the  bills  which 
Charamaule  was  distributing.  "  Sergeant,"  said  Charamaule 
to  him,  "  cry,  '  Down  with  Soulouque  ! ' "  The  sergeant 
hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  answered  "  No."  "  Well, 
then,"  replied  Charamaule,  "Shout,  'Long  live  Soulou- 
que.' "  This  time  the  sergeant  did  not  hesitate,  he  raised 
his  sword,  and,  amid  bursts  of  laughter  and  of  applause, 
he  resolutely  shouted,  "Long  live  Soulouque  !  " 

The  reading  of  the  Decree  added  a  gloomy  warmth  to 
the  popular  anger.  They  set  to  work  on  all  sides  to  tear 
down  the  placards  of  the  coup  iVetat.  At  the  door  of  the 
Cafe  des  Varietes  a  young  man  cried  out  to  the  officers, 
"You  are  drunk!"  Some  workmen  on  the  Boulevard 
Bonne-Nouvelle  shook  their  fists  at  the  soldiers  and  said, 
"Fire,  then,  you  cowards,  on  unarmed  men!  If  we  had 
guns  you  would  throw  the  butts  of  your  muskets  in  the 
air."  Charges  of  cavalry  began  to  be  made  in  front  of  the 
Cafe  Cardinal. 

As  there  were  no  troops  on  the  Boulevard  St.  Martin 
and  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  the  crowd  was  more  com- 
14 


210  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

pact  there  than  elsewhere.  All  the  shops  were  shut 
there ;  the  street  lamps  alone  gave  any  light.  Against 
the  gloss  of  the  unlighted  windows  heads  might  he  dimly 
seen  peering  out.  Darkness  produced  silence ;  this  mul- 
titude, as  we  have  already  said,  was  hushed.  There  was 
only  heard  a  confused  whispering.  Suddenly  a  light,  a 
noise,  an  uproar  burst  forth  from  the  entrance  of  the  Rue 
St.  Martin.  Every  eye  was  turned  in  that  direction ;  a 
profound  upheaving  agitated  the  crowd ;  they  rushed 
forward,  they  pressed  against  the  railings  of  the  high 
pavements  which  border  the  cutting  between  the  theatres 
of  the  Porte  St.  Martin  and  the  Ambigu.  A  moving  mass 
was  seen,  and  an  approaching  light.  Voices  were  sing- 
ing.    This  formidable  chorus  was  recognized, 

"Aux  armes,  Citoyens  ;  formez  vos  bataillons  !" 

Lighted  torches  were  coming,  it  was  the  "Marseillaise," 
that  other  torch  of  Revolution  and  of  warfare  which  was 
blazing. 

The  crowd  made  way  for  the  mob  which  carried  the 
torches,  and  which  were  singing.  The  mob  reached  the 
St.  Martin  cutting,  and  entered  it.  It  was  then  seen  what 
this  mournful  procession  meant.  The  mob  was  com- 
posed of  two  distinct  groups.  The  first  carried  on  its 
shoulders  a  plank,  on  which  could  be  seen  stretched  an 
old  man  with  a  white  beard,  stark,  the  mouth  open,  the 
eyes  fixed,  and  with  a  hole  in  his  forehead.  The  swing- 
ing movement  of  the  bearers  shook  the  corpse,  and  the 
dead  head  rose  and  fell  in  a  threatening  and  pathetic 
manner.  One  of  the  men  who  carried  him,  pale,  and 
wounded  in  the  breast,  placed  his  hand  to  his  wound, 
leant  against  the  feet  of  the  old  man,  and  at  times  him- 
self appeared  ready  to  fall.  The  other  group  bore  a 
second  litter,  on  which  a  young  man  was  stretched,  his 
countenance  pale  and  his  eyes  closed,  his  shirt  stained, 
open  over  his  breast,  displaying  his  wounds.  While  bear- 
ing the  two  litters  the  groups  sang.  They  sang  the 
"Marseillaise,"  and  at  each  chorus  they  stopped  and 
raised  their  torches,  crying,  "To  arms!"  Some  young 
men  waved  drawn  swords.  The  torches  shed  a  lurid  light 
on  the  pallid  foreheads  of  the  corpses  and  on  the  livid 
faces  of  the  crowd.     A  shudder  ran  through  the  people. 


THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME.  211 

It  appeared  as  though  they  again  saw  the  terrible  vision 
of  February,  1848. 

This  gloomy  procession  came  from  the  Rue  Aumaire. 
About  eight  o'clock  some  thirty  workmen  gathered  to- 
gether from  the  neighborhood  of  the  markets,  the  same 
who  on  the  next  day  raised  the  barricade  of  the  Guerin- 
Boisseau,  reached  the  Rue  Aumaire  by  the  Rue  de  Petit 
Lion,  the  Rue  Neuve-Bourg-PAbbe,  and  tbe  Carre  St. 
Martin.  They  came  to  fight,  but  here  the  combat  was  at 
an  end.  The  infantry  had  withdrawn  after  having  pulled 
down  the  barricades.  Two  corpses,  an  old  man  of  seventy 
and  a  young  man  of  five-and-twenty,  lay  at  the  corner  of 
the  street  on  the  ground,  with  uncovered  faces,  their  bodies 
in  a  pool  of  blood,  their  heads  on  the  pavement  where 
they  had  fallen.  Both  were  dressed  in  overcoats,  and 
seemed  to  belong  to  the  middle  class.  The  old  man  had 
his  hat  by  his  side  ;  he  was  a  venerable  figure  with  a  white 
beard,  white  hair,  and  a  calm  expression.  A  ball  had 
pierced  his  skull. 

The  young  man's  breast  was  pierced  with  buck-shot. 
One  was  the  father,  the  other  the  son.  The  son,  seeing  his 
father  fall,  had  said,  "  I  also  will  die."  Both  were  lying 
side  by  side. 

Opposite  the  gateway  of  the  Conservatoire  des  Arts  et 
Metiers  there  was  a  house  in  course  of  building.  They 
fetched  two  planks  from  it,  they  laid  the  corpses  on  the 
planks,  the  crowd  raised  them  upon  their  shoulders,  they 
brought  torches,  and  they  began  their  march,  In  the 
Rue  St.  Denis  a  man  in  a  white  blouse  barred  the  way. 
"Where  are  you  going?"  said  he  to  them.  "  You  will 
bring  about  disasters !  You  are  helping  the  '  Twenty- 
five  francs ! '"  "  Down  with  the  police  !  Down  with  the 
white  blouse !  "  shouted  the  crowd.     The  man  slunk  away. 

The  mob  swelled  on  its  road ;  the  crowd  opened  out  and 
repeated  the  "  Marseillaise  "  in  chorus,  but  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  swords  no  one  was  armed.  On  the  boulevard 
the  emotion  was  intense.  Women  clasped  their  hands  in 
pity.  Workmen  were  heard  to  exclaim,  "  And  to  think 
that  we  have  no  arms  ! " 

The  procession,  after  having  for  some  time  followed  the 
Boulevards,  re-entered  the  streets,  followed  by  a  deeply- 
affected  and  angry  multitude.  In  this  manner  it  reached 
the  Rue  de  Gravilliers.     Then  a  squad  of  twenty  stryents 


212  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

de  mile  suddenly  emerging  from  a  narrow  street  rushed 
with  drawn  swords  upon  the  men  who  were  carrying  the 
litters,  and  overturned  the  corpses  into  the  mud.  A  regi- 
ment of  Chasseurs  came  up  at  the  double,  and  put  an  end 
to  the  conflict  with  bayonet  thrusts.  A  hundred  and  two 
citizen  prisoners  were  conducted  to  the  Prefecture.  The 
two  corpses  received  several  sword-cuts  in  the  confusion, 
and  were  killed  a  second  time.  The  brigadier  Revial,  who 
commanded  the  squad  of  the  sergents  de  ville,  received  the 
Cross  of  Honor  for  this  deed  of  arms. 

At  Marie's  we  were  on  the  point  of  being  surrounded. 
We  decided  to  leave  the  Rue  Croix  des  Petits  Champs. 

At  the  Elysoe  they  commenced  to  tremble.  The  ex-Com- 
mandant Fleury,  one  of  the  aides-de-camp  of  the  Presi- 
dency, was  summoned  into  the  little  room  where  M. 
Bonaparte  had  remained  throughout  the  day.  M.  Bona- 
parte conferred  a  few  moments  alone  with  M.  Fleury,  then 
the  aide-de-camp  came  out  of  the  room,  mounted  his 
horse,  and  galloped  off  in  the  direction  of  Mazas. 

After  this  the  men  of  the  coup  d'etat  met  together  in  M. 
Bonaparte's  room,  and  held  council.  Matters  were  visibly 
going  badly ;  it  was  probable  that  the  battle  would  end 
by  assuming  formidable  proportions.  P7p  to  that  time 
they  had  desired  this,  now  they  did  not  feel  sure  that  they 
did  not  fear  it.  They  pushed  forward  towards  it,  but  they 
mistrusted  it.  There  were  alarming  symptoms  in  the 
steadfastness  of  the  resistance,  and  others  not  less  serious 
in  the  cowardice  of  adherents.  Not  one  of  the  new  Minis- 
ters appointed  during  the  morning  had  taken  possession  of 
his  Ministry — a  significant  timidity  on  the  part  of  people 
ordinarily  so  prompt  to  throw  themselves  upon  such  things. 
M.  Rouher,  in  particular,  had  disappeared,  no  one  knew 
where — a  sign  of  tempest.  Putting  Louis  Bonaparte  on 
one  side,  the  coup  d'etat  continued  to  rest  solely  upon  three 
names,  Morny,  St.  Arnaud,  and  Maupas.  St.  Arnaud 
answered  for  Magnan.  Morny  laughed  and  said  in  a 
whisper,  "  But  does  Magnan  answer  for  St.  Arnaud  ?  " 
These  men  adopted  energetic  measures,  they  sent  for  new 
regiments  ;  an  order  to  the  garrisons  to  march  upon  Paris 
was  despatched  in  the  one  direction  as  far  as  Cherbourg, 
and  on  the  other  as  far  as  Maubeuge.  These  criminals, 
in  the  main  deeply  uneasy,  sought  to  deceive  each  other. 
They  assumed  a  cheerful  countenance ;  all  spoke  of  vie- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  213 

tory ;  each  in  the  background  arranged-  for  flight ;  in 
secret,  and  saying  nothing,  in  order  not  to  give  the  alarm 
to  his  compromised  colleagues,  so  as,  in  case  of  failure,  to 
leave  the  people  some  men  to  devour.  For  this  little  school 
of  Machiavellian  apes  the  hopes  of  a  successful  escape  lie 
in  the  abandonment  of  their  friends.  During  their  flight 
they  throw  their  acomplices  behind  them. 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHAT   FLEURY   WENT   TO   DO   AT   MAZAS. 

During  the  same  night  towards  four  o'clock  the  ap- 
proaches of  the  Northern  Railway  Station  were  silently 
invested  by  two  regiments;  one  of  Chasseurs  de  Vin- 
cennes,  the  other  of  Gendarmerie  Mobile.  Numerous 
squads  of  sergents  de  ville  installed  themselves  in  the 
terminus.  The  station-master  was  ordered  to  prepare  a 
special  train  and  to  have  an  engine  ready.  A  certain 
number  of  stokers  and  engineers  for  night  service  were 
retained.  No  explanation  however  was  vouchsafed  to 
any  one,  and  absolute  secrecy  was  maintained.  A  little 
before  six  o'clock  a  movement  was  apparent  in  the  troops. 
Some  sergents  de  ville  came  running  up,  and  a  few  minutes 
afterwards  a  squadron  of  Lancers  emerged  at  a  sharp  trot 
from  the  Rue  du  Nord.  In  the  centre  of  the  squadron 
and  between  the  two  lines  of  horse-soldiers  could  be  seen 
two  police-vans  drawn  by  post-horses,  behind  each  vehicle 
came  a  little  open  barouche,  in  which  there  sat  one  man. 
At  the  head  of  the  Lancers  galloped  the  aide-de-camp 
Fleury. 

The  procession  entered  the  courtyard,  then  the  railway 
station,  and  the  gates  and  doors  were  reclosed. 

The  two  men  in  the  barouches  made  themselves  known 
to  the  Special  Commissary  of  the  station,  to  whom  the 
aide-de-camp  Fleury  spoke  privately.  This  mysterious 
convoy  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  railway  officials ;  they 
questioned  the  policemen,  but  these  knew  nothing.  All 
that  they  could  tell  was  that  these  police-vans  contained 
eight  places,  that  in  each  van  there  were  four  prisoners, 
each  occupying  a  cell,  and  that  the  four  other  cells  were 


214  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

filled  by  four  serpents  de  vitte  placed  between  the  prisoners 
so  as  to  prevent  any  communication  between  the  cells. 

After  various  consultations  between  the  aide-de-camp  of 
the  Elysee  and  the  men  of  the  Prefect  Maupas,  the  two 
police-vans  were  placed  on  railway  trucks,  each  having 
behind  it  the  open  barouche  like  a  wheeled  sentry-box, 
where  a  police  agent  acted  as  sentinel.  The  engine  was 
ready,  the  trucks  were  attached  to  the  tender,  and  the 
train  started.     It  was  still  pitch  dark. 

For  a  long  time  the  train  sped  on  in  the  most  profound 
silence.  Meanwhile  it  was  freezing,  in  the  second  of  the 
two  police-vans,  the  sergents  de  ville,  cramped  and  chilled, 
opened  their  cells,  and  in  order  to  warm  and  stretch 
themselves  walked  up  and  down  the  narrow  gangway 
which  runs  from  end  to  end  of  the  police-vans.  Day  had 
broken,  the  four  sergents  de  ville  inhaled  the  outside  air 
and  gazed  at  the  passing  country  through  a  species  of 
port-hole  which  borders  each  side  of  the  ceiling  of  the 
passage.  Suddenly  a  loud  voice  issued  from  one  of  the 
cells  which  had  remained  closed,  and  cried  out,  "  I  ley  ! 
there!  it  is  very  cold,  cannot  I  relight  my  cigar  here?" 

Another  voice  immediately  issued  from  a  second  cell, 
and  said,  "What!  it  is  you?  Good-morning,  Lamori- 
ciere ! " 

"  Good-morning,  Cavaignac  !  "  replied  the  first  voice. 

General  Cavaignac  and  General  Lamoriciere  had  just 
recognized  each  other. 

A  third  voice  was  raised  from  a  third  cell. 

"  Ah !  you  are  there,  gentlemen.  Good-morning  and  a 
pleasant  journey." 

He  who  spoke  then  was  General  Changarnier. 

"  Generals !  "  cried  out  a  fourth  voice.  "  I  am  one  of 
you !  " 

The  three  generals  recognized  M.  Baze.  A  burst  of 
laughter  came  from  the  four  cells  simultaneously. 

This  police- van  in  truth  contained,  and  was  carrying 
away  from  Paris,  the  Questor  Baze,  and  the  Generals 
Lamoriciere,  Cavaignac,  and  Changarnier.  In  the  other 
vehicle,  which  was  placed  foremost  on  the  trucks,  there 
were  Colonel  Charras,  Generals  Bedeau  and  Le  Flo,  and 
Count  Roger  (du  Nord). 

At  midnight  these  eight  Representative  prisoners  were 
sleeping  in  their  cells  at  Mazas,  when  they  heard  a  sudden 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  215 

knocking  at  their  doors,  and  a  voice  cried  out  to  them, 
"Dress,  they  are  coming  to  fetch  you."  "Is  it  to  shoot 
us?"  cried  Charras  from  the  other  side  of  the  door. 
They  did  not  answer  him.  It  is  worth  remarking  that 
this  idea  came  simultaneously  to  all.  And  in  truth,  if  we 
can  believe  what  has  since  transpired  through  the  quar- 
rels of  accomplices,  it  appears  that  in  the  event  of  a 
sudden  attack  being  made  by  us  upon  Mazas  to  deliver 
them,  a  fusillade  had  been  resolved  upon,  and  that  St. 
Arnaud  had  in  his  pocket  the  written  order,  signed  "  Louis 
Bonaparte." 

The  prisoners  got  up.  Already  on  the  preceding  night 
a  similar  notice  had  been  given  to  them.  They  had  passed 
the  night  on  their  feet,  and  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing the  jailer  said  to  them,  "  You  can  go  to  bed."  The 
hours  passed  by  ;  they  ended  by  thinking  it  would  be  the 
same  as  the  preceding  night,  and  many  of  them,  hear- 
ing five  o'clock  strike  from  the  clock  tower  inside  the 
prison,  were  going  to  get  back  into  bed,  when  the  doors 
of  their  cells  were  opened.  All  the  eight  were  taken 
downstairs  one  by  one  into  the  clerk's  office  in  the  Ro- 
tunda, and  were  then  ushered  into  the  police-van  without 
having  met  or  seen  each  other  during  the  passage.  A 
man  dressed  in  black,  with  an  impertinent  bearing,  seated 
at  a  table  with  pen  in  hand,  stopped  them  on  their  way, 
and  asked  their  names.  "lam  no  more  disposed  to  tell 
you  my  name  than  I  am  curious  to  learn  yours,"  answered 
General  Lamoriciere,  and  he  passed  outside. 

The  aide-de-camp  Fleury,  concealing  his  uniform  under 
his  hooded  cloak,  stationed  himself  in  the  clerk's  office. 
11(3  was  charged,  to  use  his  own  words,  to  "embark" 
them,  and  to  go  and  report  their  "embarkation"  at  the 
Elysee.  The  aide-de-camp  Fleury  had  passed  nearly  the 
whole  of  his  military  career  in  Africa  in  General  Lamori- 
ciere's  division  ;  and  it  was  General  Lamoriciere  who  in 
1848,  then  being  Minister  of  War,  had  promoted  him  to 
the  rank  of  major.  While  passing  through  the  clerk's 
office,  General  Lamoriciere  looked  fixedly  at  him. 

When  they  entered  the  police-vans  the  generals  were 
smoking  cigars.  They  took  them  from  them.  General 
Lamoriciere  had  kept  his.  A  voice  from  outside  cried 
three  separate  times,  "Stop  his  smoking!"  A  ser</ent 
de  ville  who  was  standing  by  the  door  of  the  cell  hesitated 


216  THE  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

for  some  time,  but  however  ended  by  saying  to  the  gen- 
eral, "  Throw  away  your  cigar." 

Thence  later  on  ensued  the  exclamation  which  caused 
General  Cavaignac  to  recognize  General  Lamoriciere. 
The  vehicles  having  been  loaded  they  set  off. 

They  did  not  know  either  with  whom  they  were  or 
where  they  were  going.  Each  observed  for  himself  in  his 
box  the  turnings  of  the  streets,  and  tried  to  speculate. 
Some  believed  that  they  were  being  taken  to  the  North- 
ern Railway  Station ;  others  thought  to  the  Havre  Rail- 
way Station.  They  heard  the  trot  of  the  escort  on  the 
paving-stones. 

On  the  railway  the  discomfort  of  the  cells  greatly  in- 
creased. General  Lamoriciere,  encumbered  with  a  parcel 
and  a  cloak,  was  still  more  jammed  in  than  the  others. 
He  could  not  move,  the  cold  seized  him,  and  he  ended  by 
the  exclamation  which  put  all  four  of  them  in  communica- 
tion with  each  other. 

On  hearing  the  names  of  the  prisoners  their  keepers, 
who  up  to  that  time  had  been  rough,  became  respectful. 
"  I  say  there,"  said  General  Changarnier,  "  open  our  cells, 
and  let  us  walk  up  and  down  the  passage  like  yourselves." 
"  General,"  said  a  sergent  de  ville,  "  we  are  forbidden  to  do 
so.  The  Commissary  of  Police  is  behind  the  carriage  in 
a  barouche,  whence  he  sees  everything  that  is  takingplace 
here."  Nevertheless,  a  few  moments  afterwards,  the 
keepers,  under  pretext  of  cold,  pulled  up  the  ground-glass 
window  which  closed  the  vehicle  on  the  side  of  the 
Commissary,  and  having  thus  "  blocked  the  police,"  as 
one  of  them  remarked,  they  opened  the  cells  of  the  pris- 
oners. 

It  was  with  great  delight  that  the  four  Representatives 
met  again  and  shook  hands.  Each  of  these  three  generals 
at  this  demonstrative  moment  maintained  the  character 
of  his  temperament.  Lamoriciere,  impetuous  and  witty, 
throwing  himself  with  all  his  military  energy  upon  "the 
Bonaparte ; "  Cavaignac,  calm  and  cold ;  Changarnier, 
silent  and  looking  out  through  the  port-hole  at  the  land- 
scape. The  ser gents  de  ville  ventured  to  put  in  a  word  here 
and  there.  One  of  them  related  to  the  prisoners  that  the 
ex-Prefect  Carlier  had  spent  the  night  of  the  First  and 
Second  at  the  Prefecture  of  Police.  "As  for  me,"  said  he, 
"I  left  the  Prefecture  at  midnight,  but  I  saw  him  up  to 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  217 

that  hour,  and  I  can  affirm  that  at  midnight  he  was  there 
still." 

They  reached  Creil,  and  then  Noyon.  At  Noyon  they 
gave  them  some  breakfast,  without  letting  them  get  out, 
a  hurried  morsel  and  a  glass  of  wine.  The  Commissaries 
of  Police  did  not  open  their  lips  to  them.  Then  the  car- 
riages were  reclosed,  and  they  felt  they  were  being  taken 
off  the  trucks  and  being  replaced  on  the  wheels.  Post 
horses  arrived,  and  the  vehicles  set  out,  but  slowly ;  they 
were  now  escorted  by  a  company  of  infantry  Gendarmerie 
Mobile. 

When  they  left  Noyon  they  had  been  ten  hours  in  the 
police-van.  Meanwhile  the  infantry  halted.  They  asked 
permission  to  get  out  for  a  moment  "  We  consent,"  said 
one  of  the  Commissaries  of  the  Police,  "but  only  for  a 
minute,  and  on  condition  that  you  will  give  your  word 
of  honor  not  to  escape."  "We  will  give  our  word  of 
honor,"  replied  the  prisoners.  "Gentlemen,"  continued 
the  Commissary,  "give  it  to  me  only  for  one  minute,  the 
time  to  drink  a  glass  of  water."  "  No,"  said  General 
Lamoriciere,  "  but  the  time  to  do  the  contrary,"  and  he 
added,  "To  Louis  Bonaparte's  health."  They  allowed 
them  to  get  out,  one  by  one,  and  they  were  able  to  inhale 
for  a  moment  the  fresh  air  in  the  open  country  by  the 
side  of  the  road. 

Then  the  convoy  resumed  its  march. 

As  the  day  waned  they  saw  through  their  port-hole  a 
mass  of  high  walls,  somewhat  overtopped  by  a  great  round 
tower.  A  moment  afterwards  the  carriages  entered  be- 
neath a  low  archway,  and  then  stopped  in  the  centre  of  a 
long  courtyard,  steeply  embanked,  surrounded  by  high 
walls,  and  commanded  by  two  buildings,  of  which  one  had 
the  appearance  of  a  barrack,  and  the  other,  with  bars  at 
all  the  windows,  had  the  appearance  of  a  prison.  The 
doors  of  the  carriages  were  opened.  An  officer  who  wore 
a  captain's  epaulets  was  standing  by  the  steps.  General 
Changarnier  came  down  first.  "  Where  are  we  ?  "  said 
he.     The  officer  answered,  "You  are  at  TIam." 

This  officer  was  the  Commandant  of  the  Fort.  He  had 
been  appointed  to  this  post  by  General  Cavaignac. 

The  journey  from  Noyon  to  Hani  had  lasted  three  hours 
and  a  half.  They  had  spent  thirteen  hours  in  the  police- 
van,  of  which  ten  were  on  the  railway. 


218  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

They  led  them  separately  into  the  prison,  each  to  the 
room  that  was  allotted  to  him.  However,  General  Lamo- 
riciere having  heen  taken  by  mistake  into  Cavaignac's 
room,  the  two  generals  could  again  exchange  a  shake  of 
the  hand.  General  Lamoriciere  wished  to  write  to  his 
wife;  the  only  letter  which  the  Commissaries  of  Police 
consented  to  take  charge  of  was  a  note  containing  this 
line  :  "  I  am  well." 

The  principal  building  of  the  prison  of  Ham  is  com- 
posed of  a  story  above  the  ground  floor.  The  ground 
floor  is  traversed  by  a  dark  and  low  archway,  which  leads 
from  the  principal  courtyard  into  a  back  yard,  and  con- 
tains three  rooms  separated  by  a  passage ;  the  first  floor 
contains  five  rooms.  One  of  the  three  rooms  on  the  ground 
floor  is  only  a  little  ante-room,  almost  uninhabitable ;  there 
they  lodged  M.  Baze.  In  the  remaining  lower  chambers 
they  installed  General  Lamoriciere  and  General  Changar- 
nier.  The  five  other  prisoners  were  distributed  in  the 
five  rooms  of  the  first  floor. 

The  room  allotted  to  General  Lamoriciere  had  been  oc- 
cupied in  the  time  of  the  captivity  of  the  Ministers  of 
Charles  X.  by  the  ex-Minister  of  Marine,  M.  d'llaussez. 
It  was  a  low,  damp  room,  long  uninhabited,  and  which 
had  served  as  a  chapel,  adjoining  the  dreary  archway 
which  led  from  one  courtyard  to  the  other,  floored  with 
great  planks  slimy  and  mouldy,  to  which  the  foot  adhered, 
papered  with  a  gray  paper  which  had  turned  green,  and 
which  hung  in  rags,  exuding  saltpetre  from  the  floor  to 
the  ceiling,  lighted  by  two  barred  windows  looking  on  to 
the  courtyard,  which  had  always  to  be  left  open  on  ac- 
count of  the  smoky  chimney.  At  the  bottom  of  the  room 
was  the  bed,  and  between  the  windows  a  table  and  two 
straw-bottomed  chairs.  The  damp  ran  down  the  walls. 
When  General  Lamoriciere  left  this  room  he  carried  away 
rheumatism  with  him;  M.  de  Ilaussez  went  out  crippled. 

When  the  eight  prisoners  had  entered  their  rooms,  the 
doors  were  shut  upon  them  ;  they  heard  the  bolts  shot 
from  outside,  and  they  were  told :  "  You  are  in  close 
confinement." 

General  Cavaignac  occupied  on  the  first  floor  the  former 
room  of  M.  Louis  Bonaparte,  the  best  in  the  prison.  The 
first  thing  which  struck  the  eye  of  the  General  waS  an 
inscription  traced  on  the  wall,  and  stating  the  day  when 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  219 

Louis  Bonaparte  had  entered  this  fortress,  and  the  day 
when  he  had  left  it,  as  is  well  known,  disguised  as  a 
mason,  and  with  a  plank  on  his  shoulder.  Moreover,  the 
choice  of  this  building  was  an  attention  on  the  part  of  M. 
Louis  Bonaparte,  who  having  in  1848  taken  the  place  of 
General  Cavaignac  in  power,  wished  that  in  1851  General 
Cavaignac  should  take  his  place  in  prison. 

"  Turn  and  turn  about !  "  Morny  had  said,  smiling. 

The  prisoners  were  guarded  by  the  48th  of  the  Line, 
who  formed  the  garrison  at  Ham.  The  old  Bastilles  are 
quite  impartial.  They  obey  those  who  make  coups  d'etat 
until  the  day  when  they  clutch  them.  What  do  these 
words  matter  to  them,  Equity,  Truth,  Conscience,  which 
moreover  in  certain  circles  do  not  move  men  any  more 
than  stones  ?  They  are  the  cold  and  gloomy  servants  of 
the  just  and  of  the  unjust.  They  take  whatever  is  given 
them.  All  is  good  to  them.  Are  they  guilty  ?  Good ! 
Are  they  innocent  ?  Excellent !  This  man  is  the  organ- 
izer of  an  ambush.  To  prison !  This  man  is  the  victim 
of  an  ambush  !  Enter  him  in  the  prison  register  !  In  the 
same  room.     To  the  dungeon  with  all  the  vanquished ! 

These  hideous  Bastilles  resemble  that  old  human  jus- 
tice which  possessed  precisely  as  much  conscience  as  they 
have,  which  condemned  Socrates  and  Jesus,  and  which 
also  takes  and  leaves,  seizes  and  releases,  absolves  and 
condemns,  liberates  and  incarcerates,  opens  and  shuts,  at 
the  will  of  whatever  hand  manipulates  the  bolt  from  out- 
side. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE    EXD    OF    TnE    SECOND    DAY. 

We  left  Marie's  house  just  in  time.  The  regiment 
charged  to  track  us  and  to  arrest  us  was  approaching. 
We  heard  the  measured  steps  of  soldiers  in  the  gloom. 
The  streets  were  dark.  We  dispersed.  I  will  not  speak 
of  a  refuge  which  was  refused  to  us. 

Less  than  ten  minutes  after  our  departure  M.  Marie's 
house  was  invested.  A  swarm  of  guns  and  swords  poured 
iu,  and  overran  it  from  cellar  to  attic.  "  Every  where  ! 
everywhere !  "  cried  the  chiefs.     The  soldiers  sought  us 


220  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

with  considerable  energy.  Without  taking  the  trouble  to 
lean  down  and  look,  they  ransacked  under  the  beds  with 
bayonet  thrusts.  Sometimes  they  had  difficulty  in  with- 
drawing the  bayonets  which  they  had  driven  into  the  wall. 
Unfortunately  for  this  zeal,  we  were  not  there. 

This  zeal  came  from  higher  sources.  The  poor  soldiers 
obeyed.  "  Kill  the  Representatives,"  such  were  their  in- 
structions. It  was  at  that  moment  when  Morny  sent 
this  despatch  to  Maupas  :  "  If  you  take  Victor  Hugo,  do 
what  you  like  with  him."  These  were  their  politest 
phrases.  Later  on  the  coup  d  etat  in  its  decree  of  banish- 
ment, called  us  "  those  individuals,"  which  caused  Schoel- 
cher  to  say  these  haughty  words  :  "  These  people  do  not 
even  know  how  to  exile  politely." 

Dr.  Veron  who  publishes  in  his  "  Memoires  "  the  Morny- 
Maupas  despatch,  adds  :  "  M.  du  Maupas  sent  to  look  for 
Victor  Hugo  at  the  house  of  his  brother-in-law,  M.  Victor 
Foucher,  Councillor  to  the  Court  of  Cassation.  He  did 
not  find  him." 

An  old  friend,  a  man  of  heart  and  of  talent,  M.  Henry 
d'E ,  had  offered  me  a  refuge  in  rooms  which  he  occu- 
pied in  the  Rue  Richelieu ;  these  rooms  adjoining  the 
Theatre  Franyais,  were  on  the  first  floor  of  a  house  which, 
like  M.  Grevy's  residence,  had  an  exit  into  the  Rue  Fon- 
taine Moliere. 

I  went  there.     M.  Henry  d'E being  from  home,  his 

porter  was  awaiting  me,  and  handed  me  the  key. 

A  candle  lighted  the  room  which  I  entered.  There  was 
a  table  near  the  fire,  a  blotting-book,  and  some  paper.  It 
was  past  midnight,  and  I  was  somewhat  tired ;  but  before 
going  to  bed,  foreseeing  that  if  I  should  survive  this  ad- 
venture I  should  write  its  history,  I  resolved  immediately 
to  note  down  some  details  of  the  state  of  affairs  in  Paris 
at  the  end  of  this  day,  the  second  of  the  coup  cVetat.  I 
wrote  this  page,  which  I  reproduce  here,  because  it  is  a  life- 
like portrayal — a  sort  of  direct  photograph  : — 

"Louis  Bonaparte  has  invented  something  which  he 
calls  a  '  Consultative  Committee,'  and  which  he  commis- 
sions to  draw  up  the  postscript  of  his  crimes. 

"  Leon  Foucher  refuses  to  be  in  it ;  Montalembert  hesi- 
tates ;  Baroche  accepts. 

" Falloux  despises  Dupin. 

"  The  first  shots  were  fired  at  the  Record  Office.     In 


THE  HISTOBT  OF  A  CRIME.  221 

the  Markets  in  the  Rue  Rambuteau,-  in  the  Rue  Beau- 
bourg  I  heard  firing. 

"  Fleury,  the  aide-de-camp,  ventured  to  pass  down  the 
Rue  Montmartre.  A  musket  ball  pierced  his  kepi.  He 
galloped  quickly  off.  At  one  o'clock  the  regiments  were 
summoned  to  vote  on  the  coup  d'etat.  All  gave  their 
adhesion.  The  students  of  law  and  medicine  assembled 
together  at  the  Ecole  de  Droit  to  protest.  The  Municipal 
Guards  dispersed  them.  There  were  a  great  many  arrests. 
This  evening,  patrols  are  everywhere.  Sometimes  an 
entire  regiment  forms  a  patrol. 

"  Representative  Hespel,  who  is  six  feet  high,  was  not 
able  to  find  a  cell  long  enough  for  him  at  Mazas,  and  he 
has  been  obliged  to  remain  in  the  porter's  lodge,  where  he 
is  carefully  watched. 

"  Mesdames  Odilon  Barrot  and  de  Tocqueville  do  not 
know  where  their  husbands  are.  They  go  from  Mazas  to 
Mont  Valerien.  The  jailers  are  dumb.  It .  is  the  19th 
Light  Infantry  which  attacked  the  barricade  when 
Baudin  was  killed.  Fifty  men  of  the  Gendarmerie  Mobile 
have  carried  at  the  double  the  barricade  of  the  Oratoire  in 
the  Rue  St.  Honore.  Moreover,  the  conflict  reveals  itself. 
They  sound  the  tocsin  at  the  Chapelle  Brea.  One  barri- 
cade overturned  sets  twenty  barricades  on  their  feet. 
There  is  the  barricade  of  the  Schools  in  the  Rue  St.  Andre 
des  Arts,  the  barricade  of  the  Rue  du  Temple,  the  barri- 
cade of  the  Carrefour  Phelippeaux  defended  by  twenty 
young  men  who  have  all  been  killed ;  they  are  reconstruct- 
ing it ;  the  barricade  of  the  Rue  de  Bretagne,  which  at  this 
moment  Courtigis  is  bombarding.  There  is  the  barricade 
of  the  Invalides,  the  barricade  of  the  Barrio-re  des  Martyres, 
the  barricade  of  the  Chapelle  St.  Denis.  The  councils  of 
war  are  sitting  in  permanence,  and  order  all  prisoners  to 
be  shot.  The  30th  of  the  Line  have  shot  a  woman.  Oil 
upon  fire. 

"The  colonel  of  the  49th  of  the  Line  has  resigned. 
Louis  Bonaparte  has  appointed  in  his  place  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Negrier.  M.  Brun,  Officer  of  the  Police  of  the 
Assembly,  was  arrested  at  the  same  time  as  the  Questors. 

"It  is  said  that  fifty  members  of  the  majority  have 
signed  a  protest  at  M.  Odilon  Barrot's  house. 

"  This  evening  there  is  an  increasing  uneasiness  at  the 
Elysee.     Incendiarism  is  feared.     Two  battalions  of  en- 


222  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

gineer-sappers  have  reinforced  the  Fire  Brigade.  Maupas 
has  placed  guards  over  the  gasometers. 

"  Here  are  the  military  talons  by  which  Paris  has  been 
grasped : — Bivouacs  at  all  the  strategical  points.  At  the 
Pont  Neuf  and  the  Quai  aux  Fleurs,  the  Municipal 
Guards ;  at  the  Place  de  la  Bastille  twelve  pieces  of  can- 
non, three  mortars,  lighted  matches ;  at  the  corner  of  the 
Faubourg  the  six-storied  houses  are  occupied  by  soldiers 
from  top  to  bottom ;  the  Marulaz  brigade  at  the  Hotel  de 
Ville ;  the  Sauboul  brigade  at  the  Pantheon ;  the  Courti- 
gis  brigade  at  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine ;  the  Renaud 
division  at  the  Faubourg  St.  Marceau.  At  the  Legislative 
Palace  the  Chasseurs  de  Vincennes,  and  a  battalion  of  the 
15th  Light  Infantry  ;  in  the  Champs  Elysees  infantry  and 
cavalry ;  in  the  Avenue  Marigny  artillery.  Inside  the 
circus  is  an  entire  regiment ;  it  has  bivouacked  there  all 
night.  A  squadron  of  the  Municipal  Guard  is  bivouacking 
in  the  Place  Dauphine.  A  bivouac  in  the  Council  of  State. 
A  bivouac  in  the  courtyard  of  the  Tuileries.  In  addition, 
the  garrisons  of  St.  Germain  and  of  Courbevoie.  Two 
colonels  killed,  Loubeau,  of  the  75th,  and  Quilio.  On  all 
sides  hospital  attendants  are  passing,  bearing  litters. 
Ambulances  are  everywhere ;  in  the  Bazar  de  l'lndustry 
(Boulevard  Poissioniere) ;  in  the  Salle  St.  Jean  at  the 
Hotel  de  Ville;  in  the  Rue  du  Petit  Carreau.  In  this 
gloomy  battle  nine  brigades  are  engaged.  All  have  a 
battery  of  artillery ;  a  squadron  of  cavalry  maintains  the 
communications  between  the  brigades ;  forty  thousand 
men  are  taking  part  in  the  struggle ;  with  a  reserve  of 
sixty  thousand  men ;  a  hundred  thousand  soldiers  upon 
Paris.  Such  is  the  Army  of  the  Crime.  The  Reibell 
brigade,  the  first  and  second  Lancers,  protect  the  Elysee. 
The  Ministers  are  all  sleeping  at  the  Ministry  of  the 
Interior,  close  by  Moray.  Moray  watches,  Magnan  com- 
mands.    To-morrow  will  be  a  terrible  day." 

This  page  written,  I  went  to  bed,  and  fell  asleep. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  223 


THE  THIRD  DAY. 

THE  MASSACRE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THOSE    "WHO    SLEEP    AND    HE    WHO    DOES    NOT    SLEEP. 

During  this  night  of  the  3d  and  4th  of  December, 
while  we  who  were  overcome  with  fatigue  and  betrothed 
to  calamity  slept  an  honest  slumber,  not  an  eye  was 
closed  at  the  Elysee.  An  infamous  sleeplessness  reigned 
there.  Towards  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  Comte 
Roguet,  after  Morny  the  most  intimate  of  the  confidants 
of  the  Elysee,  an  ex-peer  of  France  and  a  lieutenant- 
general,  came  out  of  Louis  Bonaparte's  private  room  ; 
Roguet  was  accompanied  by  Saint-Arnaud.  Saint- 
Arnaud,  it  may  be  remembered,  was  at  that  time  Minister 
of  War. 

Two  colonels  were  waiting  in  the  little  ante-room. 

Saint-Arnaud  was  a  general  who  had  been  a  super- 
numerary at  the  Ambigu  Theatre.  lie  had  made  his  first 
appearance  as  a  comedian  in  the  suburbs.  A  tragedian 
later  on.  He  may  be  described  as  follows: — tall,  bony, 
thin,  angular,  with  gray  moustaches,  lank  air,  a  mean 
countenance.  He  was  a  cut-throat,  and  badly  educated. 
Morny  laughed  at  him  for  his  pronunciation  of  the  "Sove- 
ereign  People."  "  He  pronounces  the  word  no  better  than 
he  understands  the  thing,"  said  he.  The  Elysee,  which 
prides  itself  upon  its  refinement,  only  half-accepted 
Saint-Arnaud.  His  bloody  side  had  caused  his  vulgar 
side  to  be  condoned.  Saint-Arnaud  was  brave,  violent, 
and  yet  timid;  he  had  the  audacity  of  a  gold-laced  vet- 
eran and  the  awkwardness  of  a  man  who  had  formerly 
been  "  down  upon  his  luck."  We  saw  him  one  day  in 
the  tribune,  pale,  stammering,  but  daring.  He  had  a 
long  bony  face,  and  a  distrust  inspiring  Jaw.     His  the- 


224  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

atrical  name  was  Florivan.  He  was  a  strolling  player  trans- 
formed into  a  trooper.  He  died  Marshal  of  France.  An 
ill-omened  figure. 

The  two  colonels  who  awaited  Saint- Arnaud  in  the  ante- 
room were  two  business-like  men,  both  leaders  of  those 
decisive  regiments  which  at  critical  times  carry  the  other 
regiments  with  them,  according  to  their  instructions,  into 
glory,  as  at  Austerlitz,  or  into  crime,  as  on  the  Eighteenth 
Brumaire.  These  two  officers  belonged  to  what  Morny 
called  "  the  cream  of  indebted  and  free-living  colonels." 
We  will  not  mention  their  names  here ;  one  is  dead,  the 
other. is  still  living;  he  will  recognize  himself.  Besides, 
we  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  them  in  the  first  pages  of 
this  book. 

One,  a  man  of  thirty-eight,  was  cunning,  dauntless, 
ungrateful,  three  qualifications  for  success.  The  Due 
d'Aumale  had  saved  his  life  in  the  Aures.  He  was  then 
a  young  captain.  A  ball  had  pierced  his  body ;  he  fell 
into  a  thicket ;  the  Kabyles  rushed  up  to  cut  off  and 
carry  away  his  head,  when  the  Due  d'Aumale  arriving 
with  two  officers,  a  soldier,  and  a  bugler,  charged  the 
Kabyles  and  saved  this  captain.  Having  saved  him,  he 
loved  him. .  One  was  grateful,  the  other  was  not.  The 
one  who  was  grateful  was  the  deliverer.  The  Due  d'Au- 
male was  pleased  with  this  young  captain  for  having  given 
him  an  opportunity  for  a  deed  of  gallantry.  He  made 
him  a  major ;  in  1849  this  major  became  lieutenant-colonel, 
and  commanded  a  storming  column  at  the  siege  of  Rome ; 
he  then  came  back  to  Africa,  where  Floury  bought  him 
over  at  the  same  time  as  Saint- Arnaud.  Louis  Bonaparte 
made  him  colonel  in  July,  1851,  and  reckoned  upon  him. 
In  November  this  colonel  of  Louis  Bonaparte  wrote  to 
the  Due  d'Aumale,  "  Nothing  need  be  apprehended  from 
this  miserable  adventurer."  In  December  he  commanded 
one  of  the  massacring  regiments.  Later  on,  in  the  Do- 
brudscha,  an  ill-used  horse  turned  upon  him  and  bit  off 
his  cheek,  so  that  there  was  only  room  on  his  face  for  one 
slap. 

The  other  man  was  growing  gray,  and  was  about  forty- 
eight.  He  also  was  a  man  of  pleasure  and  of  murder. 
Despicable  as  a  citizen  ;  brave  as  a  soldier.  He  was  one 
of  the  first  who  had  sprung  into  the  breach  at  Constan- 
tine.     Plenty    of   bravery  and  plenty  of  baseness.     No 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  225 

chivalry  but  that  of  the  green  cloth.  Louis  Bonaparte 
had  made  him  colonel  in  1851.  His  debts  had  been 
twice  paid  by  two  Princes ;  the  first  time  by  the  Due 
d'Orleans,  the  second  time  by  the  Due  de  Nemours. 

Such  were  these  colonels. 

Saint-Arnaud  spoke  to  them  for  some  time  in  a  low 
tone. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  COMMITTEE. 

As  soon  as  it  was  daylight  we  had  assembled  in  the 
house  of  our  imprisoned  colleague,  M.  Grevy.  We  had 
been  installed  in  his  private  room.  Michel  de  Bourges 
and  myself  were  seated  near  the  fireplace ;  Jules  Favre 
and  Carnot  were  writing,  the  one  at  a  table  near  the  win- 
dow, the  other  at  a  high  desk.  The  Left  had  invested  us 
with  discretionary  powers.  It  became  more  and  more 
impossible  at  every  moment  to  meet  together  again  in 
session.  We  drew  up  in  its  name  and  remitted  to  Ilin- 
gray,  so  that  he  might  print  it  immediately,  the  following 
decree,  compiled  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  by  Jules 
Favre : — 

"  Frexcii  Republic. 

"  Liberty,  Equality,  Fraternity. 

"  The  undersigned  Representatives  of  the  People  who 
still  remain  at  liberty, .  having  met  together  in  an  Ex- 
traordinary Permanent  Session,  considering  the  arrest  of 
the  majority  of  their  colleagues,  considering  the  urgency 
of  the  moment; 

"  Seeing  that  the  crime  of  Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte  in 
violently  abolishing  the  operations  of  the  Public  Powers 
has  reinstated  the  Nation  in  the  direct  exercise  of  its 
sovereignty,  and  that  all  which  fetters  that  sovereignty 
at  the  present  time  should  be  annulled  ; 

"Seeing  that  all  the  prosecutions  commenced,  all  the 
sentences  pronounced,  by  what  right  soever,  on  account 
of  political  crimes  or  offences  are  quashed  by  the  impre- 
scriptible right  of  the  People  ; 
15 


226  THE  IIISTOIiY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  Decree  : 

"  Article  I.     All  prosecutions  which  have  begun,  and 

all  sentences  which  have  been  pronounced,  for  political 

crimes  or  offences  are  annulled  as  regards  all  their  civil 

or  criminal  effects. 

"Article  II.  Consequently,  all  directors  of  jails  or  of 
houses  of  detention  are  enjoined  immediately  to  set  at 
liberty  all  persons  detained  in  prison  for  the  reasons 
above  indicated. 

"Article  III.  All  magistrates'  officers  and  officers  of 
the  judiciary  police  are  similarly  enjoined,  under  penalty 
of  treason,  to  annul  all  the  prosecutions  which  have  been 
begun  for  the  same  causes. 

"Article  IV.  The  police  functionaries  and  agents  are 
charged  with  the  execution  of  the  present  decree. 

"Given  at  Paris,  in  Permanent  Session,  on  the  4th 
December,  1851." 

Jules  Favre,  as  he  passed  me  the  decree  for  my  sig- 
nature, said  to  me,  smiling,  "  Let  us  set  your  sons  and 
your  friends  at  liberty."  "  Yes,"  said  I,  "  four  combatants 
the  more  on  the  barricades."  The  Representative  Duputz, 
a  few  hours  later,  received  from  our  hands  a  duplicate  of 
the  decree,  with  the  charge  to  take  it  himself  to  the 
Conciergerie  as  soon  as  the  surprise  which  we  premedi- 
tated upon  the  Prefecture  of  Police  and  the  Hotel  de 
Ville  should  have  succeeded.  Unhappily  this  surprise 
failed. 

Landrin  came  in.  His  duties  in  Paris  in  1848  had  en- 
abled him  to  know  the  whole  body  of  the  political  and 
municipal  police.  He  warned  us  that  he  had  seen  sus- 
picious figures  roving  about  the  neighborhood.  We 
were  in  the  Rue  Richelieu,  almost  opposite  the  Theatre 
Francais,  one  of  the  points  where  passers-by  are  most 
numerous,  and  in  consequence  one  of  the  points  most 
carefully  watched.  The  goings  and  comings  of  the 
Representatives  who  were  communicating  with  the  Com- 
mittee, and  who  came  in  and  out  unceasingly,  would  be 
inevitably  noticed,  and  would  bring  about  a  visit  from 
the  Police.  The  porters  and  the  neighbors  already 
manifested  an  evil-boding  surprise.  We  ran,  so  Landrin 
declared  and  assured  us,  the  greatest  danger.  "  You  will 
be  taken  and  shot,"  said  he  to  us. 

He  entreated  us  to  go  elsewhere.     M.  Grevy's  brother, 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  227 

consulted  by  us,  stated  that  he  could  not  answer  for  the 
people  of  his  house. 

But  what  was  to  be  done?  Hunted  now  for  two  days, 
we  had  exhausted  the  goodwill  of  nearly  everybody,  one 
refuge  had  been  refused  on  the  preceding  evening,  and  at 
this  moment  no  house  was  offered  to  us.  Since  the  night 
of  the  2d  we  had  changed  our  refuge  seventeen  times,  at 
times  going  from  one  extremity  of  Paris  to  the  other. 
We  began  to  experience  some  weariness.  Besides,  as  I 
have  already  said,  the  house  where  we  were  had  this  sig- 
nal advantage — a  back  outlet  upon  the  Kue  Fontaine- 
Moliere.  We  decided  to  remain.  Only  we  thought  we 
ought  to  take  precautionary  measures. 

Every  species  of  devotion  burst  forth  from  the  ranks  of 
the  Left  around  us.  A  noteworthy  member  of  the  Assem- 
bly— a  man  of  rare  mind  and  of  rare  courage — Durand- 
Savoyat — who  from  the  preceding  evening  until  the  last 
day  constituted  himself  our  doorkeeper,  and  even  more 
than  this,  our  usher  and  our  attendant,  himself  had  placed 
a  bell  on  our  table,  and  had  said  to  us,  "  When  you  want 
me,  ring,  and  I  will  come  in."  Wherever  we  went,  there 
was  he.  He  remained  in  the  ante-chamber,  calm,  impas- 
sive, silent,  with  his  grave  and  noble  countenance,  his 
buttoned  frock  coat,  and  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  which 
gave  him  the  appearance  of  an  Anglican  clergyman.  He 
himself  opened  the  entrance  door,  scanned  the  faces  of 
those  who  came,  and  kept  away  the  importunate  and  the 
useless.  Besides,  he  was  always  cheerful,  and  ready  to 
say  unceasingly,  "Things  are  looking  well."  We  were 
lost,  yet  he  smiled.     Optimism  in  Despair. 

We  called  him  in.  Landrin  set  forth  to  him  his  misgiv- 
ings. We  begged  Durand-Savoyat  in  future  to  allow  no 
one  to  remain  in  the  apartments,  not  even  the  Represent- 
atives of  the  People,  to  take  note  of  all  news  and  infor- 
mation, and  to  allow  no  one  to  penetrate  to  us  but  men 
who  were  indispensable,  in  short,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
send  away  everyone  in  order  that  the  goings  and  comings 
might  cease.  Durand-Savoyat  nodded  his  head,  and  went 
back  into  the  ante-chamber,  saying,  "It  shall  be  done.'" 
He  confined  himself  of  his  own  accord  to  these  two  for- 
mulas ;  for  us,  "Things  are  looking  well,"  for  himself, 
"  It  shall  be  done."  "  It  shall  be  done,"  a  noble  manner 
in  which  to  speak  of  duty. 


228  TI1E  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Landrin  and  Durand-Savoyat  having  left,  Michel  de 
Bourges  began  to  speak. 

"  The  artifice  of  Louis  Bonaparte,  imitator  of  his  uncle 
in  this  as  in  everything,"  said  Michel  de  Bourges,  "  had 
been  to  throw  out  in  advance  an  appeal  to  the  People,  a 
vote  to  be  taken,  a  plebiscitum,  in  short,  to  create  a 
Government  in  appearance  at  the  very  moment  when  he 
overturned  one.  In  great  crises,  where  everything  totters 
and  seems  ready  to  fall,  a  People  has  need  to  lay  hold  of 
something.  Failing  any  other  support,  it  will  take  the 
sovereignty  of  Louis  Bonaparte.  Well,  it  was  necessary 
that  a  support  should  be  offered  to  the  people,  by  us,  in 
the  form  of  its  own  sovereignty.  The  Assembly,"  con- 
tinued Michel  de  Bourges,  "  was,  as  a  fact,  dead.  The 
Left,  the  popular  stump  of  this  hated  Assembly,  might 
suffice  for  the  situation  for  a  few  days.  No  more.  It 
was  necessary  that  it  should  be  reinvigorated  by  the 
national  sovereignty.  It  was  therefore  important  that  we 
also  should  appeal  to  universal  suffrage,  should  oppose 
vote  to  vote,  should  raise  erect  the  Sovereign  People  before 
the  usurping  Prince,  and  should  immediately  convoke  a 
new  Assembly."     Michel  de  Bourges  proposed  a  decree. 

Michel  de  Bourges  was  right.  Behind  the  victory  of 
Louis  Bonaparte  could  be  seen  something  hateful,  but 
something  which  was  familiar — the  Empire  ;  behind  the 
victory  of  the  Left  there  was  obscurity.  We  must  bring 
in  daylight  behind  us.  That  which  causes  the  greatest 
uneasiness  to  people's  imagination  is  the  dictatorship  of 
the  Unknown.  To  convoke  a  new  Assembly  as  soon  as 
possible,  to  restore  France  at  once  into  the  hands  of 
France,  this  was  to  reassure  people's  minds  during  the 
combat,  and  to  rally  them  afterwards ;  this  was  the  true 
policy. 

For  some  time,  while  listening  to  Michel  de  Bourges 
and  Jules  Favre,  who  supported  him,  we  fancied  we  heard, 
in  the  next  room,  a  murmur  which  resembled  the  sound 
of  voices.  Jules  Favre  had  several  times  exclaimed,  "  Is 
any  one  there  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  possible,"  was  the  answer.  "  We  have  in- 
structed Durand-Savoyat  to  allow  no  one  to  remain 
there."  And  the  discussion  continued.  Nevertheless  the 
sound  of  voices  insensibly  increased,  and  ultimately  grew 
so  distinct  that  it  became  necessary  to  see  what  it  meant. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  229 

Carnot  half  opened  the  door.  The  room  and  the  ante- 
chamber adjoining  the  room  where  we  were  deliberating 
were  filled  with  Representatives,  who  were  peaceably 
conversing. 

Surprised,  we  called  in  Durand-Savoyat. 

"  Did  you  not  understand  us  ? "  asked  Michel  de 
Bourges. 

"Yes,  certainly,"  answered  Durand-Savoyat. 

"  This  house  is  perhaps  marked,"  resumed  Carnot;  "  we 
are  in  danger  of  being  taken." 

"  And  killed  upon  the  spot,"  added  Jules  Favre,  smiling 
with  his  calm  smile. 

"  Exactly  so,"  answered  Durand-Savoyat,  with  a  look 
still  quieter  than  Jules  Favre's  smile.  "  The  door  of  this 
inner  room  is  shrouded  in  the  darkness,  and  is  little  no- 
ticeable. I  have  detained  all  the  Representatives  who  have 
come  in,  and  have  placed  them  in  the  larger  room  and  in 
the  ante-chamber,  whichever  they  have  wished.  A  species 
of  crowd  has  thus  been  formed.  If  the  police  and  the 
troops  arrive,  I  shall  say  to  them,  '  Here  we  are.'  They 
will  take  us.  They  will  not  perceive  the  door  of  the  inner 
room,  and  they  will  not  reach  you.  We  shall  pay  for  you. 
If  there  is  any  one  to  be  killed,  they  will  content  them- 
selves with  us." 

And  without  imagining  that  he  had  just  uttered  the 
words  of  a  hero,  Durand-Savoyat  went  back  to  the  ante- 
chamber. 

We  resumed  our  deliberation  on  the  subject  of  a  decree. 
We  were  unanimously  agreed  upon  the  advantage  of  an 
immediate  convocation  of  a  New  Assembly.  But  for  what 
date  ?  Louis  Bonaparte  had  appointed  the  20th  of  De- 
cember for  his  Plebiscitum;  we  chose  the  21st.  Then, 
what  should  we  call  this  Assembly?  Michel  de  Bourges 
strongly  advocated  the  title  of  "  National  Convention," 
Jules  Favre  that  its  name  should  be  "Constituent  Assem- 
bly," Carnot  proposed  the  title  of  "  Sovereign  Assembly," 
which,  awakening  no  remembrances,  would  leave  the  field 
free  to  all  hopes.  The  name  of  "  Sovereign  Assembly  " 
was  adopted. 

The  decree,  the  preamble  of  which  Carnot  insisted 
upon  writing  from  my  dictation,  was  drawn  up  in  these 
terms.     It  is  one   of  those   which  has  been  printed  and 


230  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  Deckeb. 
placarded. 

"The  crime  of  Louis  Bonaparte  imposes  great  duties 
upon  the  Representatives  of  the  People  remaining  at 
liberty. 

"  Brute  force  seeks  to  render  the  fulfilment  of  these 
duties  impossible. 

"  Hunted,  wandering  from  refuge  to  refuge,  assassinated 
in  the  streets,  the  Republican  Representatives  deliberate 
and  act,  notwithstanding  the  infamous  police  of  the  coup 
d'etat. 

"  The  outrage  of  Louis  Napoleon,  in  overturning  all 
the  Public  Powers,  has  only  left  one  authority  standing, 
— the  supreme  authority, — the  authority  of  the  people : 
Universal  Suffrage. 

"  It  is  the  duty  of  the  Sovereign  People  to  recapture 
and  reconstitute  all  the  social  forces  which  to-day  are 
dispersed. 

"Consequently,  the  Representatives  of  the  People 
decree : — 

"Article  I. — The  People  are  convoked  on  the  21st 
December,  1851,  for  the  election  of  a  Sovereign  Assem- 
bly. 

"  Article  II. — The  election  will  take  place  by  Universal 
Suffrage,  according  to  the  formalities  determined  by 
the  decree  of  the  Provisional  Government  of  March  5, 
1848. 

"Given  at  Paris,  in  Permanent  Session,  December 
4,  1851." 

As  I  finished  signing  this  decree,  Durand-Savoyat 
entered  and  whispered  to  me  that  a  woman  had  asked  for 
me,  and  was  waiting  in  the  ante-chamber.  I  went  out  to 
her.  It  was  Madame  Charassin.  Her  husband  had  dis- 
appeared. The  Representative  Charassin,  a  political  econ- 
omist, an  agriculturist,  a  man  of  science,  was  at  the  same 
time  a  man  of  great  courage.  We  had  seen  him  on  the 
preceding  evening  at  the  most  perilous  points.  Had  he 
been  arrested?  Madame  Charassin  came  to  ask  me  if  we 
knew  where  he  was.  I  was  ignorant.  She  went  to  Mazas 
to  make  inquiries  for  him  there.  A  colonel  who  simulta- 
neously commanded  in  the  army  and  in  the  police,  re- 
ceived her,  and  said,  "  I  can  only  permit  you  to  see  your 
husband  on  one  condition."     "  What  is   that  ?  "     "  You 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  231 

will  talk  to  him  about  nothing.'  "What  do  you  mean? 
Nothing?"  "No  news,  no  politics."  "Very  well." 
"  Give  me  your  word  of  honor."  And  she  had  answered 
him,  "How  is  it  that  you  wish  me  to  give  yon  my  word 
of  honor,  since  I  should  decline  to  receive  yonrs?  " 

1  have  since  seen  Charassin  in  exile. 

Madame  Charassin  had  just  left  me  when  Theodore 
Bac  arrived.  He  brought  us  the  protest  of  the  Council  of 
State. 

Here  it  is  : — 

"Protest  of  the  Council  of  State. 
"The  undersigned  members  of  the  Council  of  State, 
elected  by  the  Constituent  and  Legislative  Assemblies, 
having  assembled  together,  notwithstanding  the  decree  of 
the  2d  of  December,  at  their  usual  place,  and  having 
found  it  surrounded  by  an  armed  force,  which  prohibited 
their  access  thereto,  protest  against  the  decree  which 
has  pronounced  the  dissolution  of  the  Council  of  State, 
and  declare  that  they  only  ceased  their  functions  when 
hindered  by  force. 

"Paris,  this  3d  December,  1851. 

"  Signed  :  Bethmont,  Vivien,  Bureau  de  Puzy, 
Ed.  Charton,  Cuvier,  De  1kk.nnkvii.li:,  Horace 
Say,  Boulatignier,  Gautikr  de  Rumilly,  De 
Jouvencel,  Dunoyee,  Carteret,  Dk  Frksne, 
Bouchenay-Lefer,  Rivet,  Boudet,  Cormenin, 
Pons  de  l'IIerault." 

Let  us  relate  the  adventure  of  the  Council  of  State. 

Louis  Bonaparte  had  driven  away  the  Assembly  by  the 
Army,  and  the  High  Court  of  Justice  by  the  Police;  he 
expelled  the  Council  of  State  by  the  porter. 

On  the  morning  of  the  "2d  of  December,  at  the  very 
hour  at  which  the  Representatives  of  the  Right  had  gone 
from  M.  Dam's  to  the  Maine  of  the  Tenth  Arrondisse- 
ment,  the  Councillors  of  State  betook  themselves  to  the 
Hotel  on  the  Quai  d'Orsay.     They  went  in  one  by  one. 

The  quay  was  thronged  with  soldiers.  A  regiment 
was  bivouacking  there  with  their  arms  piled. 

The  Councillors  of  State  soon  numbered  about  thirty. 
They  set  to  work  to  deliberate.  A  draft  protest  was 
drawn   up.     At  the  moment  when    it  was  about   to  be 


232  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CEMIE. 

signed  the  porter  came  in,  pale  and  stammering.  lie 
declared  that  he  was  executing  his  orders,  and  he  enjoined 
them  to  withdraw. 

Upon  this  several  Councillors  of  State  declared  that, 
indignant  as  they  were,  they  could  not  place  their  signa- 
tures heside  the  Republican  signatures. 

A  means  of  obeying  the  porter. 

M.  Bethmont,  one  of  the  Presidents  of  the  Council  of 
State,  offered  the  use  of  his  house.  He  lived  in  the  Rue 
Saint-Romain.  The  Republican  members  repaired  there, 
and  without  discussion  signed  the  protocol  which  has 
been  given  above. 

Some  members  who  lived  in  the  more  distant  quarters 
had  not  been  able  to  come  to  the  meeting.  The  youngest 
Councillor  of  State,  a  man  of  firm  heart  and  of  noble 
mind,  M.  Edouard  Charton,  undertook  to  take  the  protest 
to  his  absent  colleagues. 

He  did  this,  not  without  serious  risk,  on  foot,  not  having 
been  able  to  obtain  a  carriage,  and  he  was  arrested  by  the 
soldiery  and  threatened  with  being  searched,  which  would 
have  been  highly  dangerous.  Nevertheless  he  succeeded 
in  reaching  some  of  the  Councillors  of  State.  Many 
signed,  Pons  de  l'Herault  resolutely,  Cormenin  with  a  sort 
of  fever,  Boudet  aiter  some  hesitation.  M.  Boudet  trem- 
bled, his  family  were  alarmed,  they  heard  through  the 
open  window  the  discharge  of  artillery.  Charton,  brave 
and  calm,  said  to  him,  "  Your  friends,  Vivien,  Rivet,  and 
Stourm  have  signed."     Boudet  signed. 

Many  refused,  one  alleging  his  great  age,  another  the 
res  angusta  domi,  a  third  "  the  fear  of  doing  the  work  of 
the  Reds."     "  Say  'fear,'  in  short,"  replied  Charton. 

On  the  following  day,  December  3d,  MM.  Vivien  and 
Bethmont  took  the  protest  to  Boulay  dela  Meurthe,  Vice- 
President  of  the  Republic,  and  President  of  the  Council 
of  State,  who  received  them  in  his  dressing-gown,  and 
exclaimed  to  them,  "Be  off!  Ruin  yourselves,  if  you 
like,  but  without  me." 

On  the  morning  of  the  4th,  M.  de  Cormenin  erased  his 
signature,  giving  this  unprecedented  but  authentic  ex- 
cuse :  "The  word  e.i'-Councillor  of  State  does  not  look 
well  in  a  book ;  I  am  afraid  of  injuring  my  publisher." 

Yet  another  characteristic  detail.  M.  Behic,  on  the 
morning  of  the  2d,  had  arrived  while  they  were  drawing 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  233 

up  the  protest.  He  had  half  opened  the  door.  Near  the 
door  was  standing  M.  Gautier  de  Rumilly,  one  of  the  most 
justly  respected  members  of  the  Council  of  State.  M. 
Behic  had  asked  M.  Gautier  de  Rumilly,  "  What  are  they 
doing?  It  is  a  crime.  What  are  we  doing?"  M  Gau- 
tier de  Rumilly  had  answered,  "  A  protest."  Upon  this 
word  M.  Behic  had  reclosed  the  door,  and  had  disappeared. 
lie  reappeared  later  on  under  the  Empire — a  Minister. 


CHAPTER  III. 

INSIDE    THE    ELYSEE. 

During  the  morning  Dr.  Yvan  met  Dr.  Conneau.  They 
were  acquainted.  They  talked  together.  Yvan  belonged 
to  the  Left.  Conneau  belonged  to  the  Elysee.  Yvan 
knew  through  Conneau  the  details  of  what  had  taken 
place  during  the  night  at  the  Elysee,  which  he  trans- 
mitted to  us. 

One  of  these  details  was  the  following : — 

An  inexorable  decree  had  been  compiled,  and  was  about 
to  be  placarded.  This  decree  enjoined  upon  all  submis- 
sion to  the  coup  d'etat.  Saint-Arnaud,  who,  as  Minister 
of  War,  should  sign  the  decree,  had  drawn  it  up.  lie  had 
reached  the  last  paragraph,  which  ran  thus:  "Whoever 
shall  be  detected  constructing  a  barricade,  posting  a 
placard  of  the  ex-Representatives,  or  reading  it,  shall  be 
.  .  .  .  "  here  Saint-Arnaud  had  paused ;  Moray  had 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  had  snatched  the  pen  from  his 
hand,  and  written  "shot/" 

Other  matters  had  been  decided,  but  these  were  not 
recorded. 

Various  pieces  of  information  came  in  in  addition  to 
these. 

A  National  Guard,  named  Boillay  de  Dole,  had  formed 
one  of  the  Guard  at  the  Elysee,  on  the  night  of  the  3d  and 
4th.  The  windows  of  Louis  Bonaparte's  private  room, 
which  was  on  the  ground  floor,  were  lighted  up  through- 
out the  night.  In  the  adjoining  room  there  was  a  Coun- 
cil of  War.  From  the  sentry-box  where  he  was  stationed 
Boillay  saw  defined  on  the  windows  black  profiles  and 


234  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

gesticulating  shadows,  which  were  Magnan,  Saint- Arnaud, 
Persigny,  Fleury, — the  spectres  of  the  crime. 

Korte,  the  General  of  the  Cuirassiers,  had  been  sum- 
moned, as  also  Carrelet,  who  commanded  the  division 
which  did  the  hardest  work  on  the  following  day,  the  4th. 
From  midnight  to  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  Generals 
and  Colonels  "  did  nothing  but  come  and  go."  Even  mere 
captains  had  come  there.  Towards  four  o'clock  some  car- 
riages arrived  "with  women."  Treason  and  debauchery 
went  hand  in  hand.  The  boudoir  in  the  palace  answered 
to  the  brothel  in  the  barracks. 

The  courtyard  was  filled  with  lancers,  who  held  the 
horses  of  the  generals  who  were  deliberating. 

Two  of  the  women  who  came  that  night  belong  in  a 
certain  measure  to  History.  There  are  always  feminine 
shadows  of  this  sort  in  the  background.  These  women 
influenced  the  unhappy  generals.  Both  belonged  to  the 
best  circles.  The  one  was  the  Marquise  of  ....  ,  she 
who  became  enamored  of  her  husband  after  having  de- 
ceived him.  She  discovered  that  her  lover  was  not  worth 
her  husband.  Such  a  thing  does  happen.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  the  most  whimsical  Marshal  of  France,  and 
of  that  pretty  Countess  of  ....  to  whom  M.  de  Chateau- 
briand, after  a  night  of  love,  composed  this  quatrain, 
which  may  now  be  published — all  the  personages  being 
dead. 

The  Dawn  peeps  in  at  the  window,  she  paints  the  sky  with  red  ; 

And  over  our  loving  embraces  her  rosy  rays  are  shed  : 

She  looks   on  the  slumbering  world,   love,  with  eyes    that  seem 

divine; 
But  can  she  show  on  her  lips,  love,  a  smile  as  sweet  as  thine  ?  * 

The  smile  of  the  daughter  was  as  sweet  as  that  of  the 

mother,  and  more  fatal.     The  other  was  Madame  K , 

a  Russian,  fair,  tall,  blonde,  lighthearted,  involved  in  the 
hidden  paths  of  diplomacy,  possessing  and  displaying  a 
casket  full  of  love  letters  from  Count  Mole,  somewhat  of 
a  spy,  absolutely  charming  and  terrifying. 

*  The  above  is  a  free  rendering  of  the  original,  which  is  as  follows:— 

Des  rayons  du  matin  l'horizon  se  colore, 
Le  jour  vient  eclairer  notre  tendre  entretien, 
Mais  est-il  un  sourire  aux  levres  de  i'aurore. 
Aussi  doux  que  le  tien  ? 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  235 

The  precautions  which  had  been  taken  in  case  of  ac- 
cident were  visible  even  from  outside.  Since  the  preced- 
ing evening  there  had  been  seen  from  the  windows  of  the 
neighboring  houses  two  post-chaises  in  the  courtyard  of 
the  Elysee,  horsed,  ready  to  start,  the  postilions  in  their 
saddles. 

In  the  stables  of  the  Elysee  in  the  Rue  Montaigne  there 
were  other  carriages  horsed,  and  horses  saddled  and 
bridled. 

Louis  Bonaparte  had  not  slept.  During  the  night  he 
had  given  mysterious  orders ;  thence  when  morning  came 
there  was  on  this  pale  face  a  sort  of  appalling  serenity. 

The  Crime  grown  calm  was  a  disquieting  symptom. 

During  the  morning  he  had  almost  laughed.  Morny 
had  come  into  his  private  room.  Louis  Bonaparte,  having 
been  feverish,  had  called  in  Conneau,  who  joined  in  the 
conversation.  People  are  believed  to  be  trustworthy, 
nevertheless  they  listen. 

Morny  brought  the  police  reports.  Twelve  workmen 
of  the  National  Printing  Office  had,  during  the  night  of 
the  Second,  refused  to  print  the  decrees  and  the  procla- 
mations. They  had  been  immediately  arrested.  Colonel 
Forestier  was  arrested.  They  had  transferred  him  to  the 
Fort  of  Bicetre,  together  with  Croce  Spinelli,  Genillier, 
Hippolyte  Magen,  a  talented  and  courageous  writer,  Gou- 
douneche,  a  schoolmaster,  and  Polino.  This  last  name 
had  struck  Louis  Bonaparte:  "Who  is  this  Polino?" 
Morny  had  answered,  "An  ex-officer  of  the  Shah  of 
Persia's  service."  And  he  had  added,  "  A  mixture  of 
Don  Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza."  These  prisoners  had 
been  placed  in  Number  Six  Casemate.  Further  questions 
on  the  part  of  Louis  Bonaparte,  "  What  are  these  case- 
mates ?  "  And  Morny  had  answered,  "  Cellars  without  air 
or  daylight,  twenty-four  metres  long,  eight  wide,  five  high, 
dripping  walls,  damp  pavements."  Louis  Bonaparte  had 
asked,  "  Do  they  give  them  a  truss  of  straw  ? "  And 
Morny  had  said,  "  Not  yet,  Ave  shall  see  by  and  by."  He 
had  added,  "  Those  who  are  to  be  transported  are  at  Bicetre, 
those  who  are  to  be  shot  are  at  Ivry." 

Louis  Bonaparte  had  inquired,  "  What  precautions  had 
been  taken?"  Morny  gave  him  full  particulars;  that 
guards  had  been  placed  in  all  the  steeples  ;  that  all  print- 
ing-presses had  been  placed  under  seal ;  that  all  the  drums 


236  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

of  the  National  Guard  had  been  locked  up ;  that  there  was 
therefore  no  fear  either  of  a  proclamation  emanating  from 
a  printing-office,  or  of  a  call  to  arms  issuing  from  a  Mairie, 
or  of  the  tocsin  ringing  from  a  steeple. 

Louis  Bonaparte  had  asked  whether  all  the  batteries 
contained  their  full  couplements,  as  each  battery  should 
be  composed  of  four  pieces  and  two  mortars.  He  had 
expressly  ordered  that  only  pieces  of  eight,  and  mortars  of 
sixteen  centimetres  in  diameter  should  be  employed. 

"  In  truth,"  Morny,  who  was  in  the  secret,  had  said, 
"  all  this  apparatus  will  have  work  to  do." 

Then  Morny  had  spoken  of  Mazas,  that  there  were  600 
men  of  the  Republican  Guards  in  the  courtyard,  all  picked 
men,  and  who  when  attacked  would  defend  themselves 
to  the  bitter  end ;  that  the  soldiers  received  the  arrested 
Representatives  with  shouts  of  laughter,  and  that  they 
had  gone  so  far  as  to  stare  Thiers  in  the  face ;  that  the 
officers  kept  the  soldiers  at  a  distance,  but  with  discretion 
and  with  a  "  species  of  respect ; "  that  three  prisoners  were 
kept  in  solitary  confinement,  Greppo,  Nadaud,  and  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Socialist  Committee,  Arsene  Meunier.  This 
last  named  occupied  No.  32  of  the  Sixth  Division.  Adjoin- 
ing, in  No.  30,  there  was  a  Representative  of  the  Right, 
who  sobbed  and  cried  unceasingly.  This  made  Arsene 
Meunier  laugh,  and  this  made  Louis  Bonaparte  laugh. 

Another  detail.  When  the  fiacre  bringing  M.  Baze  was 
entering  the  courtyard  of  Mazas,  it  had  struck  against  the 
gate,  and  the  lamp  of  the  fiacre  had  fallen  to  the  ground 
and  been  broken  to  pieces.  The  coachman,  dismayed  at 
the  damage,  bewailed  it.  "Who  will  pay  for  this?"  ex- 
claimed he.  One  of  the  police  agents,  who  was  in  the 
carriage  with  the  arrested  Questor,  had  said  to  the  driver, 
"  Don't  be  uneasy,  speak  to  the  Brigadier.  In  matters 
such  as  this,  where  there  is  a  break-age,  it  is  the  Govern- 
ment which  pays." 

And  Bonaparte  had  smiled,  and  muttered  under  his 
moustache,  "  That  is  only  fair." 

Another  anecdote  from  Morny  also  amused  him.  This 
wTas  Cavaignac's  anger  on  entering  his  cell  at  Mazas. 
There  is  an  aperture  at  the  door  of  each  cell,  called 
the  "  spy-hole,"  through  which  the  prisoners  are  played 
the  spy  upon  unknown  to  themselves.  The  jailers  had 
watched  Cavaignac.     He  had  begun  by  pacing  up  and 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  237 

down  with  folded  arms,  and  then  the  space  being  too  con- 
fined, he  had  seated  himself  on  the  stool  in  his  cell.  These 
stools  are  narrow  pieces  of  plank  upon  three  converging 
legs,  which  pierce  the  seat  in  the  centre,  and  project  be- 
yond the  plank,  so  that  one  is  uncomfortably  seated. 
Cavaignac  had  stood  up,  and  with  a  violent  kick  had  sent 
the  stool  to  the  other  end  of  the  cell.  Then,  furious  and 
swearing,  he  had  broken  with  a  blow  of  his  fist  the  little 
table  of  five  inches  by  twelve,  which,  with  the  stool,  formed 
the  sole  furniture  of  the  dungeon. 

This  kick  and  fisticuff  amused  Louis  Bonaparte. 

"  And  Maupas  is  as  frightened  as  ever,"  said  Morny. 
This  made  Bonaparte  laugh  still  further. 

Morny  having  given  in  his  report,  went  away.  Louis 
Bonaparte  entered  an  adjoining  room  ;  a  woman  awaited 
him  there.  It  appears  that  she  came  to  entreat  mercy 
for  some  one.  Dr.  Conneau  heard  these  expressive  words : 
"  Madam,  I  wink  at  your  loves ;  do  you  wink  at  my 
hatreds." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Bonaparte's  familiar  sriRiTS. 

M.  Merimee  was  vile  by  nature,  he  must  not  be  blamed 
for  it. 

With  regard  to  M.  de  Morny  it  is  otherwise,  he  was 
more  worthy;  there  was  something  of  the  brigand  in  him. 

M.  de  Morny  was  courageous.  Brigandage  has  its  sen- 
timents of  honor. 

M.  Merimee  has  wrongly  given  himself  out  as  one  of 
the  confederates  of  the  coup  cTetat .  lie  had,  however, 
nothing  to  boast  of  in  this. 

The  truth  is  that  M.  Merimee  was  in  no  way  a  confi- 
dant.    Louis  Bonaparte  made  no  useless  confidences. 

Let  us  add  that  it  is  little  probable,  notwithstanding 
some  slight  evidence  to  the  contrary,  that  M.  Merimee,  at 
the  date  of  the  2d  December,  had  any  direct  relations 
with  Louis  Bonaparte.  This  ensued  later  on.  At  first 
Merimee  only  knew  Morny. 

Morny  and  Merimee  were  both  intimate  at  the  Elysee, 
but  on  a  different  footing.     Morny  can  be  believed,  but 


238  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

not  Merimee.  Morny  was  in  the  great  secrets,  Merimee 
in  the  small  ones.  Commissions  of  gallantry  formed  his 
vocation. 

The  familiars  of  the  Elysee  were  of  two  kinds,  the 
trustworthy  confederates  and  the  courtiers. 

The  first  of  the  trustworthy  confederates  was  Morny  ; 
the  first — or  the  last — of  the  courtiers  was  Merimee. 

This  is  what  made  the  fortune  of  M.  Merimee. 

Crimes  are  only  glorious  during  the  first  moment ;  they 
fade  quickly.  This  kind  of  success  lacks  permanency  ;  it 
is  necessary  promptly  to  supplement  it  with  something 
else. 

At  the  Elysee  a  literary  ornament  was  wanted.  A 
little  savor  of  the  Academy  is  not  out  of  place  in  a  brig- 
and's  cavern.  M.  Merimee  was  available.  It  was  his 
destiny  to  sign  himself  "the  Empress's  Jester."  Madame 
de  Montijo  presented  him  to  Louis  Bonaparte,  who 
accepted  him,  and  who  completed  his  Court  with  this  in- 
sipid but  plausible  writer. 

This  Court  was  a  heterogeneous  collection ;  a  dinner- 
wagon  of  basenesses,  a  menagerie  of  reptiles,  a  herbal  of 
poisons. 

Besides  the  trustworthy  confederates  who  were  for  use, 
and  the  courtiers  who  were  for  ornament,  there  were  the 
auxiliaries. 

Certain  circumstances  called  for  reinforcements  ;  some- 
times these  were  women,  the  Flying  Squadron. 

Sometimes  men  :  Saint-Arnaud,  Espinasse,  Saint- 
George,  Maupas. 

Sometimes  neither  men  nor  women :  the  Marquis  de  C. 

The  whole  troop  was  noteworthy. 

Let  us  say  a  few  words  of  it. 

There  was  Vieillard  the  preceptor,  an  atheist  with  a 
tinge  of  Catholicism,  a  good  billiard  player. 

Vieillard  was  an  anecdotist.  lie  recounted  smilingly 
the  following  : — Towards  the  close  of  1807  Queen 
Ilortense,  who  of  her  own  accord  lived  in  Paris,  wrote  to 
the  King  Louis  that  she  could  not  exist  any  longer  with- 
out seeing  him,  that  she  could  not  do  without  him,  and 
that  she  was  about  to  come  to  the  Hague.  The  King 
said,  "  She  is  with  child."  He  sent  for  his  minister  Van 
Maanen,  showed  him  the  Queen's  letter,  and  added,  "  She 
is  coming.    Very  good.     Our  two  chambers  communicate 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  239 

by  a  door ;  the  Queen  will  find  it  walled  up."  Louis  took 
his  royal  mantle  in  earnest,  for  he  exclaimed,  "  A  King's 
mantle  shall  never  serve  as  coverlet  to  a  harlot."  The 
minister  Van  Maanen,  terrified,  sent  word  of  this  to  the 
Emperor.  The  Emperor  fell  into  a  rage,  not  against 
Hortense,  but  against  Louis.  Nevertheless  Louis  held 
firm ;  the  door  was  not  walled  up,  but  his  Majesty  was ; 
and  when  the  Queen  came  he  turned  his  back  upon  her. 
This  did  not  prevent  Napoleon  III.    from  being  born. 

A  suitable  number  of  salvoes  of  cannon  saluted  this 
birth. 

Such  was  the  story  which,  in  the  summer  of  1840,  in 
the  house  called  La  Terrasse,  before  witnesses,  among 
whom  was  Ferdinand  B ,  Marquis  de  la  L- -,  a  com- 
panion during  boyhood  of  the  author  of  this  book,  was 
told  by  M.  Vieillard,  an  ironical  Bonapartist,  an  arrant 
sceptic. 

Besides  Vieillard  there  was  Vaudrey,  whom  Louis 
Bonaparte  made  a  General  at  the  same  time  as  Espinasse. 
In  case  of  need  a  Colonel  of  Conspiracies  can  become  a 
General  of  Ambuscades. 

There  was  Fialin,  *  the  corporal  who  became  a  Duke. 

There  was  Fleury,  who  was  destined  to  the  glory  of 
travelling  by  the  side  of  the  Czar  on  his  buttocks. 

There  was  Lacrosse,  a  Liberal  turned  Clerical,  one  of 
those  Conservatives  who  push  order  as  far  as  the  em- 
balming, and  preservation  as  far  as  the  mummy  :  later  on 
a  senator. 

There  was  Larabit,  a  friend  of  Lacrosse,  as  much  a  do- 
mestic and  not  less  a  senator. 

There  was  Canon  Coquereau,  the  "  Abbe  of  La  Belle- 
Poule."  The  answer  is  known  which  he  made  to  a 
princess  who  asked  him,  "What  is  the  Elysee?"  It  ap- 
pears that  one  can  say  to  a  princess  what  one  cannot  say 
to  a  woman. 

There  was  Ilippolyte  Fortoul,  of  the  climbing  genus,  of 
the  worth  of  a  Gustave  Planche  or  of  some  Philarote 
Chasles,  an  ill-tempered  writer  who  had  become  Minister 
of  the  Marine,  which  caused  Beranger  to  say,  "This 
Fortoul  knows  all  the  spars,  including  the  '  greased  pole.'  " 

There  were  some  Auvergants  there.     Two.     They  bated 

*Better  known  afterwards  as  Persigny. 


240  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

each  other.  One  had  nicknamed  the  other  "  the  melan- 
choly tinker." 

There  was  Sainte-Beuve,  a  distinguished  but  inferior 
man,  having  a  pardonable  fondness  for  ugliness.  A  great 
critic  like  Cousin  is  a  great  philosopher. 

There  was  Troplong,  who  has  had  Dupin  for  Pro- 
curator, and  whom  Dupin  has  had  for  President.  Dupin, 
Troplong ;  the  two  side  faces  of  the  mask  placed  upon  the 
brow  of  the  law. 

There  was  Abbatucci;  a  conscience  which  let  every- 
thing pass  by.     To-day  a  street. 

There  was  the  Abbe  M ,  later  on  Bishop  of  Nancy, 

who  emphasized  with  a  smile  the  oaths  of  Louis  Bonaparte. 

There  were  the  frequenters    of  a  famous  box  at  the 

Opera,  Montg and  Sept ,  placing  at  the  service  of 

an  unscrupulous  prince  the  deep  side  of  frivolous  men. 

There  was  Romieu — the  outline  of  a  drunkard  behind  a 
Red  spectre. 

There  was  Malitourne — not  a  bad  friend,  coarse  and 
sincere. 

There  was  Cuch ,   whose  name  caused  hesitation 

amongst  the  ushers  at  the  saloon  doors. 

There  was  Suin — a  man  able  to  furnish  excellent  counsel 
for  bad  actions. 

There  was  Dr.  Veron — who  had  on  his  cheek  what  the 
other  men  of  the  Elysee  had  in  their  hearts. 

There  was  Mocquart — once  a  handsome  member  of  the 
Dutch  Court.  Mocquart  possessed  romantic  recollections. 
He  might  by  age,  and  perhaps  otherwise,  have  been  the 
father  of  Louis  Bonaparte.  He  was  a  lawyer.  He  had 
shown  himself  quick-witted  about  1829,  at  the  same  time 
as  Romieu.  Later  on  he  had  published  something,  I 
no  longer  remember  what,  which  was  pompous  and  in 
quarto  size,  and  which  he  sent  to  me.  It  was  he  who  in 
May,  1847,  had  come  with  Prince  de  la  Moskowa  to  bring 
me  King  Jerome's  petition  to  the  Chamber  of  Peers.  This 
petition  requested  the  readmittance  of  the  banished 
Bonaparte  family  into  France.  I  supported  it;  a  good 
action,  and  a  fault  which  I  would  again  commit. 

There  was  Billault,  a  semblance  of  an  orator,  rambling 
with  facility,  and  making  mistakes  with  authority,  a  re- 
puted statesman.  What  constitutes  the  statesman  is  a 
certain  superior  mediocrity. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  241 

There  was  Lavalette,  completing  Moray  and  Walewski. 

There  was  Bacciochi. 

And  yet  others. 

It  was  at  the  inspiration  of  these  intimate  associates  that 
during  his  Presidency  Louis  Bonaparte,  a  species  of  Dutch 
Maehiavelli,  went  hither  and  thither,  to  the  Chamber 
and  elsewhere,  to  Tours,  to  Ham,  to  Dijon,  snuffling, 
with  a  sleepy  air,  speeches  full  of  treason. 

The  Elysee,  wretched  as  it  was,  holds  a  place  in  the  age. 
The  Elysee,  has  engendered  catastrophes  and  ridicule. 

One  cannot  pass  it  over  in  silence. 

The  Elysee  was  the  disquieting  and  dark  corner  of 
Paris.  In  this  bad  spot,  the  denizens  were  little  and  for- 
midable. They  formed  a  family  circle — of  dwarfs.  They 
had  their  maxim :  to  enjoy  themselves.  They  lived  on 
public  death.  There  they  inhaled  shame,  and  they  throve 
on  that  which  kills  others.  It  was  there  that  was  reared 
up  with  art,  purpose,  industry,  and  goodwill,  the  decadence 
of  France.  There  worked  the  bought,  fed,  and  obliging 
public  men  ; — read  prostituted.  Even  literature  was  com- 
pounded there  as  we  have  shown  ;  Viellard  was  a  classic 
of  1830,  Moray  created  Chouneury,  Louis  Bonaparte  was 
a  candidate  for  the  Academy.  Strange  place.  Rambouil- 
let's  hotel  mingled  itself  with  the  house  of  Bancal.  The 
Elysee  has  been  the  laboratory,  the  counting-house,  the 
confessional,  the  alcove,  the  den  of  the  reign.  The 
Elysee  assumed  to  govern  everything,  even  the  morals — 
above  all  the  morals.  It  spread  the  paint  on  the  bosom 
of  women  at  the  same  time  as  the  color  on  the  faces  of 
the  men.  It  set  the  fashion  for  toilette  and  for  music. 
Tt  invented  the  crinoline  and  the  operetta.  At  the 
Elysee  a  certain  ugliness  was  considered  as  elegance;  that 
which  niitkes  the  countenance  noble  was  there  scoffed  at, 
as  was  that  which  makes  the  soul  great;  the  phrase, 
"  human  face  divine  "  was  ridiculed  at  the  Elysee,  and  it 
was  there  that  for  twenty  years  every  baseness  was 
brought  into  fashion — effrontery  included. 

History,  whatever  may  be  its  pride,  is  condemned  to 
know  that  the  Elysee  existed.  The  grotesque  side  does 
not  prevent  the  tragic  side.  Then;  is  at  the  Elysee  a 
room  which  has  seen  the  second  abdication,  the  abdication 
after  Waterloo.  It  is  at  the  Elysee  that  Napoleon  the 
First  ended,  and  that  Napoleon  the  Third  began.  It  is  at 
20 


242  THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 

the  Elysee  that  Dupin  appeared  to  the  two  Napoleons ; 
in  1815  to  depose  the  Great,  in  1851  to  worship  the  Little. 
At  this  last  epoch  this  place  was  perfectly  villainous. 
There  no  longer  remained  one  virtue  there.  At  the  Court 
of  Tiberius  there  was  still  Thraseas,  but  round  Louis 
Bonaparte  there  was  nobody.  If  one  sought  Conscience, 
one  found  Baroche ;  if  one  sought  Religion,  one  found 
Montalembert. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  WAVERING  ALLY. 

During  this  terribly  historical  morning  of  the  4th  of 
December,  a  day  the  master  was  closely  observed  by  his 
satellites,  Louis  Bonaparte  had  shut  himself  up,  but  in 
doing  so  he  betrayed  himself.  A  man  who  shuts  him- 
self up  meditates,  and  for  such  men  to  meditate  is  to  pre- 
meditate. What  could  be  the  premeditation  of  Louis 
Bonaparte?  What  was  working  in  his  mind.  Questions 
which  all  asked  themselves,  two  persons  excepted, — 
Morny,  the  man  of  thought ;  Saint- Arnaud,  the  man  of 
action. 

Louis  Bonaparte  claimed,  justly,  a  knowledge  of  men. 
He  prided  himself  upon  it,  and  from  a  certain  point  of 
view  he  was  right.  Others  have  the  power  of  divination  ; 
he  had  the  faculty  of  scent.  It  is  brute-like,  but  trust- 
worthy. 

He  had  assuredly  not  been  mistaken  in  Maupas.  To 
pick  the  lock  of  the  Law  he  needed  a  skeleton  key.  We 
took  Maupas.  Nor  could  any  burglar's  implement  have 
answered  better  in  the  lock  of  the  Constitution  than 
Maupas.  Neither  was  he  mistaken  in  Q.  B.  He  saw  at 
once  that  this  serious  man  had  in  him  the  necessary  com- 
posite qualities  of  a  rascal.  And  in  fact,  Q.  B.,  after 
having  voted  and  signed  the  Deposition  at  the  Mairie  of 
the  Tenth  Arrondissement,  became  one  of  the  three  re- 
porters of  the  Joint  Commissions  ;  and  his  share  in  the 
abominable  total  recorded  by  history  amounts  to  sixteen 
hundred  and  thirty -four  victims. 

Louis  Bonaparte,  however,  at  times  judged  amiss, 
especially  respecting  Peauger.     Peauger,  though  chosen 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  243 

by  him,  remained  an  honest  man.  Louis  Bonaparte,  mis- 
trusting the  workmen  of  the  National  Printing-Office, 
and  not  without  reason,  for  twelve,  as  has  been  seen,  were 
refractory,  had  improvised  a  branch  establishment  in  case 
of  emergency,  a  sort  of  State  Sub-Printing-Office,  as  it 
were,  situated  in  the  Rue  de  Luxembourg,  with  steam 
and  hand  presses,  and  eight  workmen.  He  had  given  the 
management  of  it  to  Peauger.  When  the  hour  of  the 
Crime  arrived,  and  with  it  the  necessity  of  printing  the 
nefarious  placards,  he  sounded  Peauger,  and  found  him 
rebellious.  He  then  turned  to  Saint  Georges,  a  more 
subservient  lackey. 

He  was  less  mistaken,  but  still  he  was  mistaken,  in  his 
appreciation  of  X. 

On  the  2d  of  December,  X.,  an  ally  thought  necessary 
by  Morny,  became  a  source  of  anxiety  to  Louis  Bonaparte. 

X.  was  forty-four  years  of  age,  loved  women,  craved 
promotion,  and,  therefore,  was  not  over-scrupulous.  He 
began  his  career  in  Africa  under  Colonel  Combes  in  the 
forty-seventh  of  the  line.  He  showed  great  bravery  at 
Constantine ;  at  Zaatcha  he  extricated  Herbillon,  and  the 
siege,  badly  begun  by  Herbillon,  had  been  brought  to  a 
successful  termination  by  him,  X.,  who  was  a  little  short 
man,  his  head  sunk  in  his  shoulders,  was  intrepid,  and 
admirably  understood  the  handling  of  a  brigade.  Bu- 
geaud,  Lamoriciere,  Cavaignac,  and  Changarnier  were  his 
four  stepping-stones  to  advancement.  At  Paris,  in  1851, 
he  met  Lamoriciere,  who  received  him  coldly,  and  Chan- 
garnier, who  treated  him  better.  He  left  Satory  indig- 
nant, exclaiming,  "  We  must  finish  with  this  Louis 
Bonaparte.  lie  is  corrupting  the  army.  These  drunken 
soldiers  make  one  sick  at  heart.  I  shall  return  to  Africa."11 
In  October  Changarnier's  influence  decreased,  and  X.'s 
enthusiasm  abated.  X.  then  frequented  the  Elysee,  but 
without  giving  his  adherence.  lie  promised  his  support 
to  General  Bedeau,  who  counted  upon  him.  At  daybreak 
on  the  2d  of  December  some  one  came  to  waken  X.  It 
was  Edgar  Xey.  X.  was  a  prop  for  the  coup  d'etat,  but 
would  he  consent?  Edgar  Xey  explained  the  affair  to 
him,  and  left  him  only  after  seeing  him  leave  the  barracks 
of  the  Rue  Verte  at  the  head  of  the  first  regiment.  X. 
took  up  his  position  at  the  Place  de  la  Madeleine.  As  he 
arrived  there  La  Rochejaquelein,  thrust  back  from  the 


244  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Chamber  by  its  invaders,  crossed  the  Place.  La  Roche- 
jaquelein,  not  yet  a  Bonapartist,  was  furious.  He 
perceived  X.,  his  old  schoolfellow  at  the  Ecole  Militaire 
in  1880,  with  whom  he  was  on  intimate  terms.  He  went 
up  to  him,  exclaiming,  "  This  is  an  infamous  act.  What 
are  you  doing ? "  "7"  am  waiting"  answered  X.  La 
Rochejaquelein  left  him  ;  X.  dismounted,  and  went  to  see 
a  relation,  a  Councillor  of  State,  M.  R.,  who  lived  in  the 
Rue  de  Suresne.  He  asked  his  advice.  M.  R.,  an  honest 
man,  did  not  hesitate.  He  answered,  "  I  am  going  to  the 
Council  of  State  to  do  my  duty.  It  is  a  Crime."  X. 
shook  his  head,  and  said,  "  We  must  wait  and  see." 

This  /  am  waiting,  and  We  must  see,  preoccupied  Louis 
Bonaparte.  Morny  said,  "  Let  us  make  use  of  the  flying 
squadron. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DENIS     DUSSOUBS. 

Gaston  Dussoubs  was  one  of  the  bravest  members  of 
the  Left.  He  was  a  Representative  of  the  Haute- Vienne. 
At  the  time  of  his  first  appearance  in  the  Assembly  he 
wore,  as  formerly  did,Theophile  Gautier,  a  red  waistcoat, 
and  the  shudder  which  Gautier's  waistcoat  caused  among 
the  men  of  letters  in  1830,  Gaston  Dussoubs'  waistcoat 
caused  among  the  Royalists  of  1851.  M.  Parisis,  Bishop 
of  Langres,  who  would  have  had  no  objection  to  a  red 
hat,  was  terrified  by  Gaston  Dussoubs'  red  waistcoat. 
Another  source  of  horror  to  the  Right  was  that  Dussoubs 
had,  it  was  said,  passed  three  years  at  Belle  Isle  as  a 
political  prisoner,  a  penalty  incurred  by  the  "  Limoges 
Affair."  Universal  Suffrage  had,  it  would  seem,  taken 
him  thence  to  place  him  in  the  Assembly.  To  go  from 
the  prison  to  the  Senate  is  certainly  not  very  surprising 
in  our  changeful  times,  although  it  is  sometimes  followed 
by  a  return  from  the  Senate  to  the  prison.  But  the  Right 
was  mistaken,  the  culprit  of  Limoges  was,  not  Gaston 
Dussoubs,  but  his  brother  Denis. 

In  fine,  Gaston  Dussoubs  inspired  fear.  He  was  witty, 
courageous,  and  gentle. 

In  the  summer  of  1851  I  went  to  dine  every  day  at  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  245 

Conciergerie  with  my  two  sons  and  my  two  imprisoned 
friends.  These  great  hearts  and  great  minds,  Vacquerie, 
Meurice,  Charles,  and  Francois  Victor,  attracted  men  of 
like  quality.  The  livid  half-light  that  crept  in  through 
latticed  and  barred  windows  disclosed  a  family  circle  at 
which  there  often  assembled  eloquent  orators,  among 
others  Cremieux,  and  powerful  and  charming  writers, 
including  Peyrat. 

One  day  Michel  de  Bourges  brought  to  us  Gaston 
Dussoubs. 

Gaston  Dussoubs  lived  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain, 
near  the  Assembly. 

On  the  2d  of  December  we  did  not  see  him  at  our  meet- 
ings. He  was  ill,  "nailed  down,"  as  he  wrote  me,  by 
rheumatism  of  the  joints,  and  compelled  to  keep  his  bed. 

He  had  a  brother  younger  than  himself,  whom  we  have 
just  mentioned,  Denis  Dussoubs.  On  the  morning  of  the 
4th  his  brother  went  to  see  him. 

Gaston  Dussoubs  knew  of  the  cot/p  d'etat,  and  was  ex- 
asperated at  being  obliged  to  remain  in  bed.  He  exclaimed, 
"I  am  dishonored.  There  will  be  barricades,  and  my 
sash  will  not  be  there !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  his  brother.     "  It  will  be  there ! " 

"How?" 

"  Lend  it  to  me." 

«  Take  it." 

Denis  took  Gaston's  sash,  and  went  away. 

We  shall  see  Denis  Dussoubs  later  on. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ITEMS    AND    INTERVIEWS. 

Lamorioiere  on  the  same  morning  found  means  to 
convey  to  me  by  Madame  de  Courbonne*  the  following 
information. 

" Fortress  of  Ham. — The  Commandant's  name  is 

Baudot.  His  appointment,  made  by  Cavaignac  in  184S, 
was   countersigned  by   Charras.      Both   are   to-day   his 

*  No.  16,  Rue  d'Anjou,  Saiut  Honore. 


246  THE  II1ST0UY  OF  A  CBIME. 

prisoners.  The  Commissary  of  Police,  sent  by  Morny  to 
the  village  of  Ham  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  jailer 
and  the  prisoners,  is  Dufaure  cle  Pouillac."  * 

I  thought  when  I  received  this  communication  that  the 
Commandant  Baudot,  "  the  jailer,"  had  connived  at  its 
rapid  transmission. 

A  sign  of  the  instability  of  the  central  power. 

Lamoriciere,  by  the  same  means,  put  me  in  possession 
of  some  details  concerning  his  arrest  and  that  of  his 
fellow-generals. 

These  details  complete  those  which  I  have  already 
given. 

The  arrests  of  the  Generals  were  affected  at  the  same 
time  at  their  respective  homes  under  nearly  similar  cir- 
cumstances. Everywhere  houses  surrounded,  doors 
opened  by  artifice  or  burst  open  by  force,  porters  deceived, 
sometimes  garotted,  men  in  disguise,  men  provided  with 
ropes,  men  armed  with  axes,  surprises  in  bed,  nocturnal 
violence.  A  plan  of  action  which  resembled,  as  I  have 
said,  an  invasion  of  brigands. 

General  Lamoriciere,  according  to  his  own  expression, 
was  a  sound  sleeper.  Notwithstanding  the  noise  at  his 
door,  he  did  not  awake.  His  servant,  a  devoted  old 
soldier,  spoke  in  a  loud  voice,  and  called  out  to  arouse  the 
General.  He  even  offered  resistance  to  the  police.  A 
police  agent  wounded  him  in  the  knee  with  a  sword 
thrust. f  The  General  was  awakened,  seized,  and  carried 
away. 

While  passing  in  a  carriage  along  the  Quai  Malaquais, 
Lamoriciere  noticed  troops  marching  by  with  their  knap- 
sacks on  their  backs.  He  leaned  quickly  forward  out  of 
the  window.  The  Commissary  of  Police  thought  he  wTas 
about  to  address  the  soldiers.  He  seized  the  General  by 
the  arm,  and  said  to  him,  "  General,  if  you  say  a  word  I 
shall  put  this  on  you."  And  with  the  other  hand  he 
showed  him  in  the  dim  light  something  which  proved  to 
be  a  gag. 

All  the  Generals  arrested  were  taken  to  Mazas.    There 


*  The  author  still  has  in  his  possession  the  note  written  by  La- 
moriciere. 

t  Later  on,  the  wound  having  got  worse,  he  was  obliged  to  have  his 
leg  taken  off. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  247 

they  were  locked  up  and  forgotten.  At  eight  in  the  even- 
ing General  Changarnier  had  eaten  nothing. 

These  arrests  were  not  pleasant  tasks  for  the  Commis- 
saries of  Police.  They  were  made  to  drink  down  their 
shame  in  large  draughts.  Cavaignac,  Leflo,  Changarnier, 
Bedeau,  and  Lamoriciere  did  not  spare  them  any  more 
than  Charras  did.  As  he  was  leaving,  General  Cavaignac 
took  some  money  with  him.  Before  putting  it  in  his 
pocket,  he  turned  towards  Colin,  the  Commissary  of 
Police  whe  had  arrested  him,  and  said,  "  Will  this  money 
be  safe  on  me  ?  " 

The  Commissary  exclaimed,  "Oh,  General,  what  are 
you  thinking  of?" 

"  What  assurance  have  I  that  you  are  not  thieves  ? " 
answered  Cavaignac.  At  the  same  time,  nearly  the  same 
moment,  Charras  said  to  Courteille,  the  Commissary  of 
Police,  "  Who  can  tell  me  that  you  are  not  pick- 
pockets ?  " 

A  few  days  afterwards  these  pitiful  wretches  all  re- 
ceived the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 

This  cross  given  by  the  last  Bonaparte  to  policemen 
after  the  2d  of  December  is  the  same  as  that  affixed  by 
the  first  Xapoleon  to  the  eagles  of  the  Grand  Army  after 
Austerlitz. 

I  communicated  these  details  to  the  Committee.  Other 
reports  came  in.  A  few  concerned  the  Press.  Since  the 
morning  of  the  4th  the  Press  was  treated  witli  soldierlike 
brutality.  Serriere,  the  courageous  printer,  came  to  tell 
us  what  had  happened  at  the  Presse.  Serriere  published 
the  J'resse  and  the  Avenement  du Peuple, the  latter  anew 
name  for  the  Evenement,  which  had  been  judicially  sup- 
pressed. On  the  2d,  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
the  printing-office  had  been  occupied  by  twenty-eight 
soldiers  of  the  Republican  Guard,  commanded  by  a  Lieu- 
tenant named  Pape  (since  decorated  for  this  achieve- 
ment). This  man  had  given  Serriere  an  order  prohibiting 
the  printing  of  any  article  signed  "Xusse."  A  Com- 
missary of  Police  accompanied  Lieutentant  Pape.  This 
Commissary  had  notified  Serriere  of  a  "decree  of  the 
President  of  the  Republic,"  suppressing  the  Avnement 
du  Peuple,  and  had  placed  sentinels  over  the  presses.  The 
workmen  had  resisted,  and  one  of  them  said  to  the  soldiers, 
"  We  shall  print  it  in  spite  of  you.''''     Then  forty  additional 


248  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Municipal  Guards  arrived,  with  two  quarter-masters,  four 
corporals,  and  a  detachment  of  the  line,  with  drums  at 
their  head,  commanded  by  a  captain.  Girardin  came  up 
indignant,  and  protested  with  so  much  energy  that  a 
quarter-master  said  to  him,  I  should  like  a  Colonel  of 
your  stamp.''''  Girardin's  courage  communicated  itself  to 
the  workmen,  and  by  dint  of  skill  and  daring,  under  the 
very  eyes  of  the  gendarmes,  they  succeeded  in  printing 
Girardin's  proclamations  with  the  hand-press,  and  ours 
with  the  brush.  They  carried  them  away  wet,  in  small 
packages,  under  their  waistcoats. 

Luckily  the  soldiers  were  drunk.  The  gendarmes  made 
them  drink,  and  the  workmen,  profiting  by  their  revels, 
printed.  The  Municipal  Guards  laughed,  swore  and  jest- 
ed, drank  champagne  and  coffee,  and  said,  "  We  fill  the 
places  of  the  Representatives,  we  have  twenty-five  francs  a 
day."  All  the  printing-houses  in  Paris  were  occupied  in 
the  same  manner  by  the  soldiery.  The  coup  d'etat  reigned 
everywhere.  The  Crime  even  ill-treated  the  Press  which 
supported  it.  At  the  office  of  the  Moniteur  Parisien,  the 
police  agents  threatened  to  fire  on  any  one  who  should 
open  a  door.  M  Delamare,  director  of  the  J}atrie,  had 
forty  Municipal  Guards  on  his  hands,  and  trembled  lest 
they  should  break  his  presses.  He  said  to  one  of  them. 
"  Why,  lam  on  your  side."  The  gendarme  replied,  "  What 
is  that  to  me?" 

At  three  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  4th  all  the 
printing-offices  were  evacuated  by  the  soldiers.  The  Cap- 
tain said  to  Serriere,  "  We  have  orders  to  concentrate  in 
our  own  quarters."  And  Serriere,  in  announcing  this  fact, 
added,  "  Something  is  in  preparation." 

I  had  had  since  the  previous  night  several  conversa- 
tions with  Georges  Biscarrat,  an  honest  and  brave  man,  of 
whom  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  hereafter.  I  had 
given  him  rendezvous  at  Xo.  19,  Rue  Richelieu.  Many 
persons  came  and  went  during  this  morning  of  the  4th 
from  No.  15,  where  we  deliberated,  to  jSTo.  19,  where  I 
slept. 

As  I  left  this  honest  and  courageous  man  in  the  street 
I  saw  M.  Merimee,  his  exact  opposite,  coming  towards 
me. 

"  Oh !  "  said  M.  Merimee,  "  I  was  looking  for  you." 

I  answered  him, — 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  249 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  find  me." 

lie  held  out  his  hand  to  me,  and  I  turned  my  back  on 
him. 

I  have  not  seen  him  since.     I  believe  he  is  dead. 

In  speaking  one  day  in  1847  with  Merimee  about  Morny, 
we  had  the  following  conversation: — Merimee  said,  "M. 
de  Morny  has  a  great  future  before  him."  And  he  asked 
me,  "  Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

I  answered, — 

"  Ah  !  he  has  a  fine  future  before  him !  Yes,  I  know 
M.  de  Morny.  He  is  a  clever  man.  He  goes  a  great  deal 
into  society,  and  conducts  commercial  operations.  He 
started  the  Vieille  Montague  affair,  the  zinc-mines,  and 
the  coal-mines  of  Liege.  I  have  the  honor  of  his  ac- 
quaintance.    He  is  a  sharper." 

There  was  this  difference  between  Merimee  and  myself: 
I  despised  Morny,  and  he  esteemed  him. 

Morny  reciprocated  his  feeling.     It  was  natural. 

I  waited  until  Merimee  had  passed  the  corner  of  the 
street.    As  soon  as  he  disappeared  I  went  into  No.  15. 

There,  they  had  received  news  of  Canrobert.  On  the 
2d  he  went  to  see  Madame  Leflo,  that  noble  woman,  who 
was  most  indignant  at  what  had  happened.  There  was  to 
be  a  ball  next  day  given  by  Saint- Arnaud  at  the  Ministry 
of  War.  General  and  Madame  Lefio  were  invited,  and  had 
made  an  appointment  there  with  General  Canrobert.  But 
the  ball  did  not  form  a  part  of  Madame  Leflo's  conversa- 
tion with  him.  "  General,"  said  she,  "  all  your  comrades 
are  arrested ;  is  it  possible  that  you  give  your  support  to 
such  an  act?"  "What  I  intend  giving,"  replied  Canro- 
bert, "  is  my  resignation  and,"  he  added,  "  you  may  tell 
General  Lefio  so."  He  was  pale,  and  walked  up  and  down, 
apparently  much  agitated.  "  Your  resignation,  General  ?  " 
"  Yes,  Madame."  "  Is  it  positive  ? "  "  Yes,  Madame,  if 
there  is  no  riot."  "General  Canrobert,"  exclaimed  Ma- 
dame Lefio,  "that  if  tells  me  your  intentions." 

Canrobert,  however,  had  not  yet  taken  his  decision. 
Indeed,  indecision  was  one  of  his  chief  characteristics. 
Pelissier,  who  was  cross-grained  and  gruff,  used  to  say, 
"Judge  men  by  their  names,  indeed!  I  am  christened 
A>/iable,  Kandon  Cesar,  and  Canrobert  Certain." 


250  TUE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    SITUATION. 

Although  the  fighting  tactics  of  the  Committee  were, 
for  the  reasons  which  I  have  already  given,  not  to  con- 
centrate all  their  means  of  resistance  into  one  hour,  or  in 
one  particular  place,  hut  to  spread  them  over  as  many 
points  and  as  many  days  as  possible,  each  of  us  knew  in- 
stinctively, as  also  the  criminals  of  the  Elysee  on  their 
side,  that  the  day  would  he  decisive. 

The  moment  drew  near  when  the  coup  d'etat  would 
storm  us  from  every  side,  and  when  we  should  have  to 
sustain  the  onslaught  of  an  entire  army.  Would  the 
people,  that  great  revolutionary  populace  of  the  fau- 
bourgs of  Paris,  abandon  their  Representatives  ?  Would 
they  abandon  themselves?  Or,  awakened  and  enlight- 
ened, would  they  at  length  arise  ?  A  question  more  and 
more  vital,  and  which  we  repeated  to  ourselves  with 
anxiety. 

The  National  Guard  had  shown  no  sign  of  earnestness. 
The  eloquent  proclamation,  written  at  Marie's  by  Jules 
Favre  and  Alexander  Key,  and  addressed  in  our  name  to 
the  National  Legions,  had  not  been  printed.  Iletzel's 
scheme  had  failed.  Versigny  and  Lebrousse  had  not 
been  able  to  rejoin  him ;  the  place  appointed  for  their 
meeting,  the  corner  of  the  boulevard  and  the  Rue  de 
Richelieu,  having  been  continually  scoured  by  charges  of 
cavalry.  The  courageous  effort  of  Colonel  Gvessier  to 
win  over  the  Sixth  Legion,  the  more  timid  attempt  of 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Ilowyne  upon  the  Fifth,  had  failed. 
Nevertheless  indignation  began  to  manifest  itself  in 
Paris.     The  preceding  evening  had  been  significant. 

Ilingray  came  to  us  during  the  morning,  bringing  under 
his  cloak  a  bundle  of  copies  of  the  Decree  of  Deposition, 
which  had  been  reprinted.  In  order  to  bring  them  to  us 
he  had  twice  run  the  risk  of  being  arrested  and  shot. 
We  immediately  caused  these  copies  to  be  distributed  and 
placarded.  This  placarding  was  resolutely  carried  out ; 
at  several  points  our  placards  were  posted  by  the  side  of 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  251 

the  placards  of  the  coup  (Vetat,  which  pronounced  the  pen- 
alty of  death  against  any  one  who  should  placard  the 
decrees  emanating  from  the  Representatives.  Hingray 
told  us  that  our  proclamations  and  our  decrees  had  been 
lithographed  and  distributed  by  hand  in  thousands.  It 
was  urgently  necessary  that  we  should  continue  our  pub- 
lications. A  printer,  who  had  formerly  been  a  publisher 
of  several  democratic  journals,  M.  Boule,  had  offered  me 
his  services  on  the  preceding  evening.  In  June,  1848,  I 
had  protected  his  printing-office,  then  being  devastated 
by  the  National  Guards.  I  wrote  to  him  :  I  enclosed  our 
judgments  and  our  decrees  in  the  letter,  and  the  Repre- 
sentative Montaigu  undertook  to  take  them  to  him.  M. 
Boule  excused  himself;  his  printing-presses  had  been 
seized  by  the  police  at  midnight. 

Through  the  precautions  which  we  had  taken,  and 
thanks  to  the  patriotic  assistance  of  several  young  med- 
ical and  chemical  students,  powder  had  been  manufactured 
in  several  quarters.  At  one  point  alone,  the  Rue  Jacob, 
a  hundred  kilogrammes  had  been  turned  out  during  the 
night.  As,  however,  this  manufacture  was  principally 
carried  out  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  and  as  the  light- 
ing took  place  on  the  right  bank,  it  was  necessaiy  to  trans- 
port this  powder  across  the  bridges.  They  managed  this 
in  the  best  manner  they  could.  Towards  nine  o'clock  we 
were  warned  that  the  police,  having  been  informed  of 
this,  had  organized  a  system  of  inspection,  and  that  all 
persons  crossing  the  river  were  searched,  particularly  on 
the  Pont  Xeuf. 

A  certain  strategical  plan  became  manifest.  The  ten 
central  bridges  were  militarily  guarded. 

People  were  arrested  in  the  street  on  account  of  their 
personal  appearance.  A  sergent-de-ville,  at  the  corner  of 
the  Pont-au-Change,  exclaimed,  loud  enough  for  the  pass- 
ers-by to  hear,  "We  shall  lay  hold  of  all  those  who  have 
not  their  beards  properly  trimmed,  or  who  do  not  appear 
to  have  slept." 

Notwithstanding  all  this  we  had  a  little  powder;  the 
disarming  of  the  National  Guard  at  various  points  had 
produced  about  eight  hundred  muskets,  our  proclamations 
and  our  decrees  were  being  placarded,  our  voice  was 
reaching  the  people,  a  certain  confidence  was  springing 
up. 


252  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"The  wave  is  rising !  the  wave  is  rising!"  exclaimed 
Edgar  Quiiiet,  who  had  come  to  shake  my  hand. 

We  were  informed  that  the  schools  were  rising  in 
insurrection  during  the  day,  and  that  they  offered  us 
a  refuge  in  the  midst  of  them. 

Jules  Favre  exclaimed  joyfully, — 

"  To-morrow  we  shall  date  our  decrees  from  the  Pan- 
theon." 

Signs  of  good  omen  grew  more  numerous.  An  old  hot- 
bed of  insurrection,  the  Rue  Saint- Andre-des- Arts,  was 
becoming  agitated.  The  association  called  La  Presse  du 
Travail  gave  signs  of  life.  Some  brave  workmen,  at  the 
house  of  one  of  their  colleagues,  Netre  No.  13,  Rue  du 
Jardinet,  had  organized  a  little  printing-press  in  a  garret, 
a  few  steps  from  the  barracks  of  the  Gendarmerie  Mobile. 
They  had  spent  the  night  first  in  compiling,  and  then  in 
printing  "  A  Manifesto  to  Working  Men,"  which  called 
the  people  to  arms.  They  were  five  skilful  and  deter- 
mined men ;  they  had  procured  paper,  they  had  perfectly 
new  type;  some  of  them  moistened  the  paper,  while 
the  others  composed ;  towards  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing they  began  to  print.  It  was  essential  that  they 
should  not  be  heard  by  the  neighbors ;  they  had  succeeded 
in  muffling  the  hollow  blows  of  the  ink-rollers,  alternat- 
ing with  the  rapid  sound  of  the  printing  blankets.  In  a 
few  hours  fifteen  hundred  copies  were  pulled,  and  at  day- 
break they  were  placarded  at  the  corners  of  the  streets. 
The  leader  of  these  intrepid  workmen,  A.  Desmoulins, 
who  belonged  to  that  sturdy  race  of  men  who  are  both 
cultured  and  who  can  fight,  had  been  greatly  disheart- 
ened on  the  preceding  day ;  he  now  had  become  hopeful. 

On  the  preceding  day  he  wrote : — "  Where  are  the  Rep- 
resentatives ?  The  communications  are  cut.  The  quays 
and  the  boulevards  can  no  longer  be  crossed.  It  has  be- 
come impossible  to  reunite  the  popular  Assembly.  The 
people  need  direction.  De  Flotte  in  one  district,  Victor 
Hugo  in  another,  Schcelcher  in  a  third,  are  actively  urging 
on  the  combat,  and  expose  their  lives  a  score  of  times, 
but  none  feel  themselves  supported  by  any  organized 
body :  and  moreover  the  attempt  of  the  Royalists  in  the 
Tenth  Arrondissement  has  roused  apprehension.  People 
dread  lest  they  should  see  them  reappear  when  all  is 
accomplished." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  253 

Now,  this  man  so  intelligent  and  so  courageous  re- 
covered confidence,  and  he  wrote, — 

"  Decidedly,  Louis  Napoleon  is  afraid.  The  police  re- 
ports are  alarming  for  him.  The  resistance  of  the  Re- 
publican Representatives  is  bearing  fruit.  Paris  is  arm- 
ing. Certain  regiments  appear  ready  to  turn  back.  The 
Gendarmerie  itself  is  not  to  be  depended  upon,  and  this 
morning  an  entire  regiment  refused  to  march.  Disorder 
is  beginning  to  show  itself  in  the  services.  Two  batteries, 
fired  upon  each  other  for  a  long  time  without  recognition. 
One  would  say  that  the  coup  cVetat  is  about  to  fail." 

The  symptoms,  as  may  be  seen,  were  growing  more 
reassuring. 

Had  Maupas  become  unequal  to  the  task?  Had  they 
resorted  to  a  more  skilful  man  ?  An  incident  seemed  to 
point  to  this.  On  the  preceding  evening  a  tall  man  had 
been  seen,  between  five  and  seven  o'clock,  walking  up 
and  down  before  the  cafe  of  the  Place  Saint- Michel ;  he 
had  been  joined  by  two  of  the  Commissaries  of  the  Police 
who  had  effected  the  arrests  of  the  2d  of  December,  and 
had  talked  to  them  for  a  long  time.  This  man  was 
Carlier.     Was  he  about  to  supplant  Maupas? 

The  Representative  Labrousse,  seated  at  a  table  of  the 
cafe,  had  witnessed  this  conspirators'  parley. 

Each  of  the  two  Commissaries  was  followed  by  that 
species  of  police  agent  which  is  called  "  the  Commissary's 
dog." 

At  the  same  time  strange  warnings  reached  the  Com- 
mittee ;  the  following  letter  *  was  brought  to  our  knowl- 
edge. 

"  3d  December. 

"  My  dear  Bocagt-:, 

"  To-day  at  six  o'clock,  25,000  francs  has  been  offered 
to  any  one  who  arrests  or  kills  Hugo. 

"  You  know  where  he  is.  He  must  not  go  out  under 
any  pretext  whatever.  "  Yours  ever, 

"Al.  Dumas." 

At  the  back  was  written,  "Bocage,  18,  Rue  Cassette." 
It  was  necessary  that  the  minutest  details  should  be 

*  The  original  of  this  note  is  in  the  hands  of  the  author  of  this 
book.     It  was  handed  to  us  by  M.  Avenel  on  the  part  of  Al.  Bocaye. 


254  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

considered.  In  the  different  places  of  combat  a  diversity 
of  passwords  prevailed,  which  might  cause  danger.  For 
the  password  on  the  day  before  we  had  given  the  name 
of  "  Baudin."  In  imitation  of  this  the  names  of  other 
Representatives  had  been  adopted  as  passwords  on  bar- 
ricades. In  the  Rue  Rambuteau  the  password  was 
"  Eugene  Sue  and  Michel  de  Bourges  ;  "  in  the  Rue  Beau- 
bourg,  "  Victor  Hugo ; "  at  the  Saint  Denis  chapel, 
"  Esquiros  and  De  Flotte."  We  thought  it  necessary  to 
put  a  stop  to  this  confusion,  and  to  suppress  the  proper 
names,  which  are  always  easy  to  guess.  The  password 
settled  upon  was,  "  What  is  Joseph  doing  ?  " 

At  every  moment  items  of  news  and  information  came 
to  us  from  all  sides,  that  barricades  were  everywhere  be- 
ing raised,  and  that  firing  was  beginning  in  the  central 
streets.  Michel  de  Bourges  exclaimed,  "Construct  a 
square  of  four  barricades,  and  we  will  go  and  deliberate 
in  the  centre." 

We  received  news  from  MontValerien.  Two  prisoners 
the  more.  Rigal  and  Belle  had  just  been  committed. 
Both  of  the  Left.  Dr.  Rigal  was  the  Representative  of 
Gaillac,  and  Belle  of  Lavaur.  Rigal  was  ill ;  they  had 
arrested  him  in  bed.  In  prison  he  lay  upon  a  pallet,  and 
could  not  dress  himself.  His  colleague  Belle  acted  as 
his  valet  de  cJiambre. 

Towards  nine  o'clock  an  ex-Captain  of  the  8th  Legion 
of  the  National  Guard  of  1848,  named  Jourdan,  came  to 
place  himself  at  our  service.  He  was  a  bold  man,  one  of 
those  who  had  carried  out,  on  the  morning  of  the  24th 
February,  the  rash  surprise  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  We 
charged  him  to  repeat  this  surprise,  and  to  extend  it  to 
the  Prefecture  of  Police.  He  knew  how  to  set  about  the 
work.  He  told  us  that  he  had  only  a  few  men,  but  that 
during  the  day  he  would  cause  certain  houses  of  strate- 
gical importance  on  the  Quai  des  Gevres,  on  the  Quai 
Lepelletier,  and  in  the  Rue  de  la  Cite,  to  be  silently  oc- 
cupied, and  that  if  it  should  chance  that  the  leaders  of 
the  coiqy  d'etat,  owing  to  the  combat  in  the  centre  of  Paris 
growing  more  serious,  should  be  forced  to  withdraw  the 
troops  from  the  Hotel  de  Ville  and  the  Prefecture,  an 
attack  would  be  immediately  commenced  on  these  two 
points.  Captain  Jourdan,  we  may  at  once  mention,  did 
what  he  had  promised  us ;  unfortunately,   as  we  learnt 


THE  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  255 

that  evening,  he  began  perhaps  a  little  too  soon.  As  he 
had  foreseen,  a  moment  arrived  when  the  square  of  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  was  almost  devoid  of  troops,  General  Iler- 
billon  having  been  forced  to  leave  it  with  his  cavalry  to 
take  the  barricades  of  the  centre  in  the  rear.  The  attack 
of.  the  Republicans  burst  forth  instantly.  Musket  shots 
were  fired  from  the  windows  on  the  Quai  Lepelletier;  but 
the  left  of  the  column  was  still  on  the  Pont  d'Arcole,  a 
line  of  riflemen  had  been  placed  by  a  major  named  La- 
rochette  before  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  the  44th  retraced  its 
steps,  and  the  attempt  failed. 

Bastide  arrived,  with  Chauffour  and  Laissac. 

"  Good  news,"  said  he  to  us,  "  all  is  going  on  well." 
His  grave,  honest,  and  dispassionate  countenance  shone 
with  a  sort  of  patriotic  serenity.  He  came  from  the 
barricades,  and  was  about  to  return  thither.  He  had 
received  two  balls  in  his  cloak.  I  took  him  aside,  and 
said  to  him,  "  Are  you  going  back  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  Take 
me  with  you."  "No,"  answered  he,  "you  are  necessary 
here.  To-day  you  are  the  general,  I  am  the  s"oldier."  I 
insisted  in  vain.  He  persisted  in  refusing,  repeating 
continually.  "The  Committee  is  our  centre,  it  should 
not  disperse  itself.  It  is  your  duty  to  remain  here. 
Besides,"  added  he,  "  make  your  mind  easy.  You  run 
here  more  risk  than  we  do.  If  you  are  taken  you  will  be 
shot."  "  Well,  then,"  said  1,  "  the  moment  may  come 
when  our  duty  will  be  to  join  in  the  combat."  "  Without 
doubt."  I  resumed,  "You  who  are  on  the  barricades 
will  be  better  judges  than  we  shall  of  that  moment. 
Give  me  your  word  of  honor  that  you  will  treat  me  as 
you  would  wish  me  to  treat  you,  and  that  you  will  come 
and  fetch  me."  "I  give  it  you,"  he  answered,  and  he 
pressed  my  two  hands  in  his  own. 

Later  on,  however,  a  few  moments  after  Bastide  had 
left,  great  as  was  my  confidence  in  the  loyal  word  of  this 
courageous  and  generous  man,  I  could  no  longer  restrain 
myself,  and  I  profited  by  an  interval  of  two  hours  of 
which  I  could  dispose,  to  go  and  see  with  my  own  eyes 
what  was  taking  place,  and  in  what  manner  the  resistance 
was  behaving. 

1  took  a  carriage  in  the  square  of  the  Palais  Koyal.  I 
explained  to  t  lie  d  river  who  I  was.  and  thai  I  was  about 
to  visit  and  encourage  the  barricades  ;  that  I  should  cro 


256  TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

sometimes  on  foot,  sometimes  in  the  carriage,  and  that  I 
trusted  myself  to  him.     I  told  him  my  name. 

The  first  comer  is  almost  always  an  honest  man.  This 
true-hearted  coachman  answered  me,  "  I  know  where  the 
barricades  are.  I  will  drive  you  wherever  it  is  necessary. 
I  will  wait  for  you  wherever  it  is  necessary.  I  will  drive 
you  there  and  bring  you  back  ;  and  if  you  have  no  money, 
do  not  pay  me,  I  am  proud  of  such  an  action." 

And  we  started. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    PORTE    SAINT    MARTIN. 

Important  deeds  had  been  already  achieved  during  the 
morning. 

"  It  is  taking  root,"  Bastide  had  said. 

The  difficulty  is  not  to  spread  the  flames  but  to  light 
the  fire. 

It  was  evident  that  Paris  began  to  grow  ill-tempered. 
Paris  does  not  get  angry  at  will.  She  must  be  in  the 
humor  for  it.  A  volcano  possesses  nerves.  The  anger 
was  coming  slowly,  but  it  was  coining.  On  the  horizon 
might  be  seen  the  first  glimmering  of  the  eruption. 

For  the  Elysee,  as  for  us,  the  critical  moment  was  draw- 
ing nigh.  From  the  preceding  evening  they  were  nursing 
their  resources.  The  coup  d'etat  and  the  Republic  were 
at  length  about  to  close  with  each  other.  The  Committee 
had  in  vain  attempted  to  drag  the  wheel ;  some  irresist- 
ible impulse  carried  away  the  last  defenders  of  liberty 
and  hurried  them  on  to  action.  The  decisive  battle  was 
about  to  be  fought. 

In  Paris,  when  certain  hours  have  sounded,  when  there 
appears  an  immediate  necessity  for  a  progressive  move- 
ment to  be  carried  out,  or  a  right  to  be  vindicated,  the 
insurrections  rapidly  spread  throughout  the  whole  city. 
But  they  always  begin  at  some  particular  point.  Paris, 
in  its  vast  historical  task,  comprises  two  revolutionary 
classes,  the  "middle-class"  and  the  "people."  And  to 
these  two  combatants  correspond  two  places  of  combat ; 
the  Porte  Saint  Martin  when  the  middle-class  are  revolt- 
ing, the  Bastille  when  the  people  are  revolting.     The  eye 


THE  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  257 

of  the  politician  should  always  he  fixed  on  these  two 
points.  There,  famous  in  contemporary  history,  are  two 
spots  where  a  small  portion  of  the  hot  cinders  of  Revolu- 
tion seem  ever  to  smoulder. 

When  a  wind  blows  from  above,  these  burning  cinders 
are  dispersed,  and  fill  the  city  with  sparks. 

This  time,  as  we  have  already  explained,  the  formidable 
Faubourg  Antoine  slumbered,  and,  as  has  been  seen,  noth- 
ing had  been  able  to  awaken  it.  An  entire  park  of  artil- 
lery was  encamped  with  lighted  matches  around  the  July 
Column,  that  enormous  deaf-and-dumb  memento  of  the 
Bastille.  This  lofty  revolutionary  pillar,  this  silent  wit- 
ness of  the  great  deeds  of  the  past,  seemed  to  have  for- 
gotten all.  Sad  to  say,  the  paving  stones  which  had  seen 
the  14th  of  July  did  not  rise  under  the  cannon-wheels  of 
the  '2d  of  December.  It  was  therefore  not  the  Bastille 
which  began,  it  was  the  Porte  Saint  Martin. 

From  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  Rue  Saint  Denis 
and  the  Rue  Saint  Martin  were  in  an  uproar  throughout 
their  length ;  throngs  of  indignant  passers-by  went  up 
and  down  those  thoroughfares.  They  tore  down  the  pla- 
cards of  the  coup  d'etat;  they  posted  up  our  Proclama- 
tions ;  groups  at  the  corners  of  all  the  adjacent  streets 
commented  upon  the  decree  of  outlawry  drawn  up  by  the 
members  of  the  Left  remaining  at  liberty;  they  snatched 
the  copies  from  each  other.  Men  mounted  on  the  kerb- 
stones read  aloud  the  names  of  the  120  signatories,  and, 
still  more  than  on  the  day  before,  each  significant  or  cele- 
brated name  was  hailed  with  applause.  The  crowd  in- 
creased every  moment — and  the  anger.  The  entire  Rue 
Saint  Denis  presented  the  strange  aspect  of  a  street  with 
all  the  doors  and  windows  closed,  and  all  the  inhabitants 
in  the  open  air.  Look  at  the  houses,  there  is  death  ;  look 
at  the  street,  it  is  the  tempest. 

Some  fifty  determined  men  suddenly  emerged  from  a 
side  alley,  and  began  to  run  through  the  streets,  crying, 
"To  anus!  Long  live  the  Representatives  of  the  Left! 
Long  live  the  Constitution!"  The  disarming  of  the 
National  Guards  began.  It  was  carried  out  more  easily 
than  on  the  preceding  evening.  In  less  than  an  hour 
more  than  150  muskets  had  been  obtained. 

In    the    meanwhile  the  street   became   covered   with 
barricades. 
17 


258  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

CHAPTER  X. 

MY   VISIT    TO    THE    BAEEICADES. 

My  coachman  deposited  me  at  the  corner  of  Saint  Eu- 
stache,  and  said  to  me,  "  Here  you  are  in  the  hornets' 
nest." 

He  added,  "  I  will  wait  for  you  in  the  Rue  de  la  Vril- 
liere,  near  the  Place  des  Victoires.     Take  your  time." 

I  began  walking  from  barricade  to  barricade. 

In  the  first  I  met  De  Flotte,  who  offered  to  serve  me 
as  a  guide.  There  is  not  a  more  determined  man  than 
De  Flotte.  I  accepted  his  offer ;  he  took  me  everywhere 
where  my  presence  could  be  of  use. 

On  the  way  he  gave  me  an  account  of  the  steps  taken 
by  him  to  print  our  proclamations  ;  Boule's  printing- 
office  having  failed  him,  he  had  applied  to  a  lithographic 
press,  at  No.  30,  Rue  Bergere,  and  at  the  peril  of  their 
lives  two  brave  men  had  printed  500  copies  of  our  decrees. 
These  two  true-hearted  workmen  were  named,  the  one 
Rubens,  the  other  Achille  Poincellot. 

While  walking  I  made  jottings  in  pencil  (with  Baudin's 
pencil,  which  I  had  with  me) ;  I  registered  facts  at  ran- 
dom ;  I  reproduce  this  page  here.  These  living  facts  are 
useful  for  History ;  the  coup  d'etat  is  there,  as  though 
freshly  bleeding. 

"  Morning  of  the  4th.  It  looks  as  if  the  combat  was 
suspended.  Will  it  burst  forth  again?  Barricades  vis- 
ited by  me :  one  at  the  corner  of  Saint  Eustache.  One 
at  the  Oyster  Market.  One  in  the  Rue  Mauconseil.  One 
in  the  Rue  Tiquetonne.  One  in  the  Rue  Mandar  (Pocher 
de  Cancale).  One  barring  the  Rue  du  Cadran  and  the 
Rue  Montorgueil.  Four  closing  the  Petit-Carreau.  The 
beginning  of  one  between  the  Pue  des  Deux  Portes  and 
the  Rue  Saint  Sauveur,  barring  the  Rue  Saint  Denis. 
One,  the  largest,  barring  the  Rue  Saint  Denis,  at  the  top 
of  the  Rue  Guerin-Boisseau.  One  barring  the  Rue  Gre- 
netat.  One  farther  on  in  the  Rue  Grenetat,  barring  the 
Rue  Bourg-Labbe  (in  the  centre  an  overturned  flour  wag- 
on ;  a  good  barricade).     In  the  Rue  Saint  Denis  one  bar- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  259 

ring  the  Rue  de  Petit- Lion- Saint-Sauveur.  One  barring  the 
Rue  du  Grand  Hurleur,  with  its  four  corners  barricaded. 
This  barricade  has  already  been  attacked  this  morning. 
A  combatant,  Massonnet,  a  comb-maker  of  154,  Rue  Saint 
Denis,  received  a  ball  in  his  overcoat ;  Dupapet,  called 
'  the  man  with  the  long  beard,'  was  the  last  to  stay  on 
the  summit  of  the  barricade.  He  was  heard  to  cry  out  to 
the  officers  commanding  the  attack,  '  You  are  traitors ! ' 
He  is  believed  to  have  been  shot.  The  troops  retired — . 
strange  to  say  without  demolishing  the  barricade.  A 
barricade  is  being  constructed  in  the  Rue  du  Renard. 
Some  National  Guards  in  uniform  watch  its  construction, 
but  do  not  work  on  it.  One  of  them  said  to  me,  '  We  are 
not  against  you,  you  are  on  the  side  of  Right.'  They  add 
that  there  are  twelve  or  fifteen  barricades  in  the  Rue 
Rambuteau.  This  morning  at  daybreak  the  cannon  had 
fired  'steadily,'  as  one  of  them  remarks,  in  the  Rue 
Bourbon- Villeneuve.  I  visit  a  powder  manufactory  im- 
provised by  Leguevel  at  a  chemist's  opposite  the  Rue 
Guerin-Boisseau. 

"They  are  constructing  the  barricades  amicably,  with- 
out angering  any  one.  They  do  what  they  can  not  to 
annoy  the  neighborhood.  The  combatants  of  the  Bourg- 
Labbe  barricades  are  ankle-deep  in  mud  on  account  of 
the  rain.  It  is  a  perfect  sewer.  They  hesitate  to  ask  for 
a  truss  of  straw.  They  lie  down  in  the  water  or  on  the 
pavement. 

"I  saw  there  a  young  man  who  was  ill,  and  who  had 
just  got  up  from  his  bed  with  the  fever  still  on  him.  He 
said  to  me,  'I  am  going  to  my  death'  (he  did  so). 

"  In  the  Rue  Bourbon-Villeneuve  they  had  not  even 
asked  a  mattress  of  the  '  shopkeepers,'  although,  the  barri- 
cade being  bombarded,  they  needed  them  to  deaden  the 
effect  of  the  balls. 

"  The  soldiers  make  bad  barricades,  because  they  make 
them  too  well.  A  barricade  should  be  tottering ;  when 
well  built  it  is  worth  nothing  ;  the  paving-stones  should 
want  equilibrium,  '  so  that  they  may  roll  down  on  the 
troopers,'  said  a  street-boy  to  me,  '  and  break  their  paws.' 
Sprains  form  a  part  of  barricade  warfare. 

"  Jeanty  Sarre  is  the  chief  of  a  complete  group  of  barri- 
cades. He  presented  his  first  lieutenant  to  me,  Charpen- 
tier,  a  man  of  thirty-six,  lettered  and  seientific.     Charpen- 


260  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

tier  busies  himself  with  experiments  with  the  object  of 
substituting  gas  for  coal  and  wood  in  the  firing  of  china, 
and  he  asks  permission  to  read  a  tragedy  to  me  '  one  of 
these  days.'     I  said  to  him,  '  We  shall  make  one.' 

"Jeanty  Sarre  is  grumbling  at  Charpentier;  the  am- 
munition is  failing.  Jeanty  Sarre,  having  at  his  house 
in  the  Rue  Saint  Honore  a  pound  of  fowling-powder  and 
twenty  army  cartridges,  sent  Charpentier  to  get  them. 
Charpentier  went  there,  and  brought  back  the  fowling- 
powder  and  the  cartridges,  but  distributed  them  to  the 
combatants  on  the  barricades  whom  he  met  on  the  way. 
'  They  were  as  though  famished,'  said  be.  Charpentier 
had  never  in  his  life  touched  a  fire-arm.  Jeanty  Sarre 
showed  him  how  to  load  a  gun. 

"  They  take  their  meals  at  a  wine-seller's  at  the  corner, 
and  they  warm  themselves  there.  It  is  very  cold.  The 
wine-seller  says,  '  Those  who  are  hungry,  go  and  eat.'  A 
combatant  asked  him,  '  Who  pays?'  'Death,'  was  the 
answer.  And  in  truth  some  hours  afterwards  he  had 
received  seventeen  bayonet  thrusts. 

"  They  have  not  broken  the  gas-pipes — always  for  the 
sake  of  not  doing  unnecessary  damage.  They  confine 
themselves  to  requisitioning  the  gasmen's  keys,  and  the 
lamplighters'  winches  in  order  to  open  the  pipes.  In  this 
manner  they  control  the  lighting  or  extinguishing. 

"  This  group  of  barricades  is  strong,  and  will  play  an 
important  part.  I  had  hoped  at  one  moment  that  they 
would  attack  it  while  I  was  there.  The  bugle  had  ap- 
proached, and  then  had  gone  away  again.  Jeanty  Sarre 
tells  me  '  it  will  be  for  this  evening.' 

"  His  intention  is  to  extinguish  the  gas  in  the  Rue  du 
Petit- Carreau  and  all  the  adjoining  streets,  and  to  leave 
only  one  jet  lighted  in  the  Rue  du  Cadran.  He  has 
placed  sentinels  as  far  as  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Saint 
Denis ;  at  that  point  there  is  an  open  side,  without  barri- 
cades, but  little  accessible  to  the  troops,  on  account  of 
the  narrowness  of  the  streets,  which  they  can  only  enter 
one  by  one.  Thence  little  danger  exists,  an  advantage  of 
narrow  streets ;  the  troops  are  worth  nothing  unless 
massed  together.  The  soldier  does  not  like  isolated  action  ; 
in  war  the  feeling  of  elbow  to  elbow  constitutes  half  the 
bravery.  Jeanty  Sarre  has  a  reactionary  uncle  with  whom 
he  is  not  on  good  terms,  and  who  lives  close  by  at  No.  1, 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  261 

Rue  du  Petit- Carreau. — '  What  a  fright  we  shall  give  him 
presently ! '  said  Jeanty  Sarre  to  me,  laughing.  This 
morning  Jeanty  Sarre  has  inspected  the  Montorgueil 
barricade.  There  was  only  one  man  on  it,  who  was  drunk, 
and  who  put  the  barrel  of  his  gun  against  his  breast, 
saying,  '  No  thoroughfare.'     Jeanty  Sarre  disarmed  him. 

"  I  go  to  the  Rue  Pagevin.  There  at  the  corner  of  the 
Place  des  Victoires  there  is  a  well-constructed  barricade. 
In  the  adjoining  barricade  in  the  Rue  Jean  Jacques  Rous- 
seau, the  troops  this  morning  made  no  prisoners.  The 
soldiers  had  killed  every  one.  There  are  corpses  as  far 
as  the  Place  des  Victoires.  The  Pagevin  barricade  held 
its  own.  There  are  fifty  men  there,  well  armed.  I  enter. 
'Is  all  going  on  well?'  'Yes.'  'Courage.'  I  press  all 
these  brave  hands  ;  they  make  a  report  to  me.  They  had 
seen  a  Municipal  Guard  smash  in  the  head  of  a  dying 
man  with  the  butt  end  of  his  musket.  A  pretty  young 
girl,  wishing  to  go  home,  took  refuge  in  the  barricade. 
There,  terrified,  she  remained  for  an  hour.  When  all 
danger  was  over,  the  chief  of  the  barricade  caused  her  to 
be  reconducted  home  by  the  eldest  of  his  men. 

"  As  I  was  about  to  leave  the  barricade  Pagevin,  they 
brought  me  a  prisoner,  a  police  spy,  they  said. 

"  He  expected  to  be  shot.     I  had  him  set  at  liberty." 

Bancel  was  in  this  barricade  of  the  Rue  Pagevin.  We 
shook  hands. 

He  asked  me, — 

"  Shall  we  conquer  ?  " 

"Yes,"  I  answered. 

We  then  could  hardly  entertain  a  doubt. 

De  Flotte  and  Bancel  wished  to  accompany  me,  fearing 
that  I  should  be  arrested  by  the  regiment  guarding  the 
Bank. 

The  weather  was  misty  and  cold,  almost  dark.  This 
obscurity  concealed  and  helped  us.  The  fog  was  on  our 
side. 

As  we  reached  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  la  Yrilliere,  a 
group  on  horseback  passed  by. 

It  consisted  of  a  few  officers,  preceded  by  a  man  who 
seemed  a  soldier,  but  who  was  not  in  uniform.  He  wore 
a  cloak  with  a  hood. 

De  Flotte  nudged  me  with  his  elbow,  and  whispered, — 

"  Do  you  know  Fialin  ?  " 


262  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

I  answered, — 

«  No." 

"  Have  you  seen  him  ? 

«  No." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  him  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Look  at  him." 

I  looked  at  him. 

This  man  in  truth  was  passing  before  us.  It  was  he 
who  preceded  the  group  of  officers.  He  came  out  of  the 
Bank.  Had  he  been  there  to  effect  a  new  forced  loan  ? 
The  people  who  were  at  the  doors  looked  at  him  with 
curiosity,  and  without  anger.  His  entire  bearing  was  in- 
solent, lie  turned  from  time  to  time  to  say  a  word  to 
one  of  his  followers.  This  little  cavalcade  "  pawed  the 
ground"  in  the  mist  and  in  the  mud.  Fialin  had  the 
arrogant  air  of  a  man  who  caracoles  before  a  crime.  He 
gazed  at  the  passers-by  with  a  haughty  look.  His  horse 
was  very  handsome,  and,  poor  beast,  seemed  very  proud. 
Fialin  was  smiling.  He  had  in  his  hand  the  whip  that 
his  face  deserved. 

He  passed  by.  I  never  saw  the  man  except  on  this 
occasion. 

De  Flotte  and  Bancel  did  not  leave  me  until  they  had 
seen  me  get  into  my  vehicle.  My  true-hearted  coachman 
was  waiting  for  me  in  the  Rue  de  la  Vrilliere.  He  brought 
me  back  to  No  15,  Rue  Richelieu. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

TnE  BARRICADE  OP  THE  RUE  MESLAY 

The  first  barricade  of  the  Rue  Saint  Martin  was  erected 
at  the  junction  of  the  Rue  Meslay.  A  large  cart  was 
overturned,  placed  across  the  street,  and  the  roadway  was 
unpaved ;  some  flag-stones  of  the  footway  were  also  torn 
up.  This  barricade,  the  advanced  work  of  defence  of  the 
whole  revolted  street,  could  only  form  a  temporary  ob- 
stacle. No  portion  of  the  piled-up  stones  was  higher 
than  a  man.  In  a  good  third  of  the  barricade  the  stones 
did  not  reach  above  the  knee.     "  It  will  at  all  events  be 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  263 

good  enough  to  get  killed  in,"  said  a  little  street  Arab 
who  was  rolling  numerous  flag-stones  to  the  barricade. 
A  hundred  combatants  took  up  their  position  behind  it. 
Towards  nine  o'clock  the  movements  of  the  troops  gave 
warning  of  the  attack.  The  head  of  the  column  of  the 
Marulaz  Brigade  occupied  the  corner  of  the  street  on  the 
side  of  the  boulevard.  A  piece  of  artillery,  raking  the 
whole  of  the  street,  was  placed  in  position  before  the 
Porte  Saint  Martin.  For  some  time  both  sides  gazed  on 
each  other  in  that  moody  silence  which  precedes  an  en- 
counter; the  troops  regarding  the  barricade  bristling  with 
•guns,  the  barricade  regarding  the  gaping  cannon.  After 
a  while  the  order  for  a  general  attack  was  given.  The 
firing  commenced.  The  first  shot  passed  above  the  barri- 
cade, and  struck  a  woman  who  was  passing  some  twenty 
paces  in  the  rear,  full  in  the  breast.  She  fell,  lipped  open. 
The  fire  became  brisk  without  doing  much  injury  to  the 
barricade.  The  cannon  was  too  near ;  the  bullets  flew 
too  high. 

The  combatants,  who  had  not  yet  lost  a  man,  received 
each  bullet  with  a  cry  of  "  Long  live  the  Republic ! " 
but  without  firing.  They  possessed  few  cartridges,  and 
they  husbanded  them.  Suddenly  the  49th  regiment  ad- 
vanced in  close  column  order. 

The  barricade  fired. 

The  smoke  filled  the  street ;  when  it  cleared  away, 
there  could  be  seen  a  dozen  men  on  the  ground,  and  the 
soldiers  falling  back  in  disorder  by  the  side  of  the  houses. 
The  leader  of  the  barricade  shouted,  "  They  are  falling 
back.     Cease  firing!     Let  us  not  waste  a  ball." 

The  street  remained  for  some  time  deserted.  The  can- 
non recommenced  firing.  A  shot  came  in  every  two 
minutes,  but  always  badly  aimed.  A  man  with  a  fowling- 
piece  came  up  to  the  leader  of  the  barricade,  and  said  to 
him,  "Let  us  dismount  that  cannon.  Let  us  kill  the 
gunners." 

"Why!"  said  the  chief,  smiling,  "they  are  doing  us 
no  harm,  let  us  do  none  to  them." 

Nevertheless  the  sound  of  the  bugle  could  he  distinctly 
heard  on  the  other  side  of  the  block  of  houses  which  con- 
cealed the  troops  echelloned  on  the  Square  of  Saint  Mar- 
tin, and  it  was  manifest  that  a  second  attack  was  being 
prepared. 


264  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

This  attack  would  naturally  be  furious,  desperate,  and 
stubborn. 

It  was  also  evident  that,  if  this  barricade  were  carried, 
the  entire  street  would  be  scoured.  The  other  barricades 
were  still  weaker  than  the  first,  and  more  feebly  de- 
fended. The  "  middle  class  "  had  given  their  guns,  and 
had  re-entered  their  houses.  They  lent  their  street,  that 
was  all. 

It  was  therefore  necessary  to  hold  the  advanced  barri- 
cade as  long  as  possible.  But  what  was  to  be  done,  and 
how  was  the  resistance  to  be  maintained?  They  had 
scarcely  two  shots  per  man  left. 

An  unexpected  source  of  supply  arrived. 

A  young  man,  I  can  name  him,  for  he  is  dead — Pierre 
Tissie,*  who  was  a  workman,  and  who  also  was  a  poet, 
had  worked  during  a  portion  of  the  morning  at  the  barri- 
cades, and  at  the  moment  when  the  firing  began  he  went 
away,  stating  as  his  reason  that  they  would  not  give  him 
a  gun.  In  the  barricade  they  had  said,  "  There  is  one  who 
is  afraid." 

Pierre  Tissie  was  not  afraid,  as  we  shall  see  later  on. 

He  left  the  barricade. 

Pierre  Tissie  had  only  his  knife  with  him,  a  Catalan 
knife;  he  opened  it  at  all  hazards,  he  held  it  in  his  hand, 
and  went  on  straight  before  him. 

As  he  came  out  of  the  Rue  Saint  Sauveur,  he  saw  at 
the  corner  of  a  little  lonely  street,  in  which  all  the  win- 
dows were  closed,  a  soldier  of  the  line  standing  sentry, 
posted  there  doubtlessly  by  the  main  guard  at  a  little 
distance. 

This  soldier  was  at  the  halt  with  his  gun  to  his  shoulder 
ready  to  fire. 

He  heard  the  step  of  Pierre  Tissie,  and  cried  out, — 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  " 

"  Death!  "  answered  Pierre  Tissie. 

The  soldier  fired,  and  missed  Pierre  Tissie,  who  sprang 
on  him,  and  struck  him  down  with  a  blow  of  his  knife. 

The  soldier  fell,  and  blood  spurted  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  I  did  not  know  I  should  speak  so  truly,"  muttered 
Pierre  Tissie. 


*  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  this  has  been  written  in  exile,  and 
that  to  name  a  hero  was  to  condemn  him  to  exile. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  265 

And  he  added,  "  Now  for  the  ambulance  ! " 

He  took  the  soldier  on  his  buck,  picked  up  the  gun 
which  had  fallen  to  the  ground,  and  came  back  to  the 
barricade.     "  I  bring  you  a  wounded  man,"  said  he. 

"  A  dead  man,"  they  exclaimed. 

In  truth  the  soldier  had  just  expired. 

"  Infamous  Bonaparte ! "  said  Tissie.  "  Poor  red 
breeches  !     All  the  same,  I  have  got  a  gun." 

They  emptied  the  soldier's  pouch  and  knapsack.  They 
divided  the  cartridges.  There  were  150  of  them.  There 
were  also  two  gold  pieces  of  ten  francs,  two  clays'  pay 
since  the  2d  of  December.  These  were  thrown  on  the 
ground,  no  one  would  take  them. 

They  distributed  the  cartridges  with  shouts  of  "  Long 
live  the  Republic!  " 

Meanwhile  the  attacking  party  had  placed  a  mortar  in 
position  by  the  side  of  the  cannon. 

The  distribution  of  the  cartridges  was  hardly  ended 
when  the  infantry  appeared,  and  charged  upon  the 
barricade  with  the  bayonet.  This  second  assault,  as  had 
been  foreseen,  was  violent  and  desperate.  It  was  repulsed. 
Twice  the  soldiers  returned  to  the  charge,  and  twice  they 
fell  back,  leaving  the  street  strewn  with  dead.  In  the 
interval  between  the  assaults,  a  shell  had  pierced  and 
dismantled  the  barricade,  and  the  cannon  began  to  fire 
grape-shot. 

The  situation  was  hopeless ;  the  cartridges  were  ex- 
hausted. Some  began  to  throw  down  their  guns  and  go 
away.  The  only  means  of  escape  was  by  the  Hue  Saint 
Sauveur,  and  to  reach  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Saint  Sauveur 
it  was  necessary  to  get  over  the  lower  part  of  the  barricade, 
which  left  nearly  the  whole  of  the  fugitives  unpro- 
tected. There  was  a  perfect  rain  of  musketry  and  grape- 
shot.  Three  or  four  were  killed  there,  one,  like  Baudin, 
by  a  ball  in  his  eye.  The  leader  of  the  barricade  suddenly 
noticed  that  he  was  alone  with  Pierre  Tissie,  and  a  boy  of 
fourteen  years  old,  the  same  who  had  rolled  so  many 
stones  for  the  barricade.  A  third  attack  was  pending, 
and  the  soldiers  began  to  advance  by  the  side  of  the 
houses. 

"  Let  us  go,"  said  the  leader  of  the  barricade. 

"  I  shall  remain,"  said  Pierre  Tissie. 

"  And  I  also,"  said  the  boy. 


266  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

And  the  boy  added, — 

"  I  have  neither  father  nor  mother.  As  well  this  as 
anything  else." 

The  leader  fired  his  last  shot,  and  retired  like  the  others 
over  the  lower  part  of  the  barricade.  A  volley  knocked 
off  his  hat.  He  stooped  down  and  picked  it  up  again. 
The  soldiers  were  not  more  than  twenty-five  paces 
distant. 

He  shouted  to  the  two  who  remained, — 

"  Come  along  !  " 

"  No,"  said  Pierre  Tissie. 

"  No,"  said  the  boy. 

A  few  moments  afterwards  the  soldiers  scaled  the 
barricade  already  half  in  ruins. 

Pierre  Tissie  and  the  boy  were  killed  with  bayonet 
thrusts. 

Some  twenty  muskets  were  abandoned  in  this  barri- 
cade. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    BARRICADE    OF   THE   MAIRIE    OP    THE   FIFTH   ARROX- 
DISSEMENT. 

National  Guards  in  uniform  filled  the  courtyard  of 
the  Mairie  of  the  Fifth  Arrondissement.  Others  came  in 
every  moment.  An  ex-drummer  of  the  Garde  Mobile  had 
taken  a  drum  from  a  lower  room  at  the  side  of  the  guard- 
room, and  had  beaten  the  call  to  arms  in  the  surrounding 
streets.  Towards  nine  o'clock  a  group  of  fourteen  or 
fifteen  young  men,  most  of  whom  were  in  white  blouses, 
entered  the  Mairie,  shouting,  "  Long  live  the  Republic  !  " 
They  were  armed  with  guns.  The  National  Guard  re- 
ceived them  with  shouts  of  "Down  with  Louis  Bona- 
parte!" They  fraternized  in  the  courtyard.  Suddenly 
there  was  a  movement.  It  was  caused  by  the  arrival  of 
the  Representatives  Doutre  and  Pelletier. 

"  What  is  to  be  done?  "  shouted  the  crowd. 

"  Barricades,"  said  Pelletier. 

They  set  to  work  to  tear  up  the  paving-stones. 

A  large  cart  laden  with  sacks  of  flour  was  descending 
the  faubourg,  and  passed  before  the  gate  of  the  Mairie. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  207 

They  unharnessed  the  horses,  which  the  carter  led  away, 
and  they  turned  the  cart  round  without  upsetting  it 
across  the  wide  roadway  of  the  faubourg.  The  barricade 
was  completed  in  a  moment.  A  truck  came  up.  They 
took  it  and  stood  it  against  the  wheels  of  the  cart,  just  as 
a  screen  is  placed  before  a  fireplace. 

The  remainder  was  made  up  of  casks  and  paving-stones. 
Thanks  to  the  flour-cart  the  barricade  was  lofty,  and 
reached  to  the  first  story  of  the  houses.  It  intersected 
the  faubourg  at  the  corner  of  the  little  Rue  Saint  Jean. 
A  narrow  entrance  had  been  contrived  at  the  barricade  at 
the  corner  of  the  street. 

"  One  barricade  is  not  sufficient,"  said  Doutre,  "  we 
must  place  the  Mairie  between  two  barriers,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  defend  both  sides  at  the  same  time." 

They  constructed  a  second  barricade,  facing  the  summit 
of  the  faubourg.  This  one  was  low  and  weakly  built, 
being  composed  only  of  planks  and  of  paving-stones. 
There  was  about  a  hundred  paces  distance  between  the 
two  barricades. 

There  were  three  hundred  men  in  this  space.  Only 
one  hundred  had  guns.  The  majority  had  only  one  car- 
tridge. 

The  firing  began  about  ten  o'clock.  Two  companies  of 
the  line  appeared  and  fired  several  volleys.  The  attack 
was  only  a  feint.  The  barricade  replied,  and  made  the 
mistake  of  foolishly  exhausting  its  ammunition.  The 
troops  retired.  Then  the  attack  began  in  earnest.  Some 
Chasseurs  de  Vincennes  emerged  from  the  corner  of  the 
boulevard. 

Following  out  the  African  mode  of  warfare,  they  glided 
along  the  side  of  the  walls,  and  then,  with  a  run,  they 
threw  themselves  upon  the  barricade. 

Xo  more  ammunition  in  the  barricade.  Xo  quarter  to 
be  expected. 

Those  who  had  no  more  powder  or  balls  threw  down 
their  guns.  Some  wished  to  reoccupy  their  position  in 
the  Mairie,  but  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  maintain 
any  defence  there,  the  Mairie  being  open  and  commanded 
from  every  side;  they  scaled  the  walls  and  scattered 
themselves  ahout  in  the  neighboring  houses;  others 
escaped  by  the  narrow  passage  of  the  boulevard  which 
led   into  the  Hue  Saint  Jean;  most    of  the  combatants 


268  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

reached  the  opposite  side  of  the  boulevard,  while  those 
who  had  a  cartridge  left  fired  a  last  volley  upon  the 
troops  from  the  height  of  the  paving-stones.  Then  they 
awaited  their  death.     All  were  killed. 

One  of  those  who  succeeded  in  slipping  into  the  Rue 
Saint  Jean,  where  moreover  they  ran  the  gauntlet  of  a 
volley  from  their  assailants,  was  M.  H.  Coste,  Editor  of 
the  Evhiement  and  of  the  Avenement  du  Peuple. 

M.  Coste  had  been  a  captain  in  the  Garde  Mobile.  At 
a  bend  in  the  street,  which  placed  him  out  of  reach  of  the 
balls,  M.  Coste  noticed  in  front  of  him  the  drummer  of 
the  Garde  Mobile,  who,  like  him,  had  escaped  by  the  Rue 
Saint  Jean,  and  who  was  profiting  by  the  loneliness  of  the 
street  to  get  rid  of  his  drum. 

"  Keep  your  drum,"  cried  he  to  him. 

"  For  what  purpose  ?  " 

"  To  beat  the  call  to  arms." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"At  Batignolles." 

"I  will  keep  it,"  said  the  drummer. 

These  two  men  came  out  from  the  jaws  of  death,  and 
at  once  consented  to  re-enter  them. 

But  how  should  they  cross  all  Paris  with  this  drum  ? 
The  first  patrol  which  met  them  would  shoot  them.  A 
porter  of  an  adjoining  house,  who  noticed  their  predica- 
ment, gave  them  a  packing-cloth.  They  enveloped  the 
drum  in  it,  and  reached  Batignolles  by  the  lonely  streets 
which  skirt  the  walls. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    BARRICADE    OF    THE    RUE    THEVENOT. 

Georges  Biscarrat  wras  the  man  who  had  given  the 
signal  for  the  hooting  in  the  Rue  de  l'Echelle. 

I  had  known  Georges  Biscarrat  ever  since  June,  1848. 
He  had  taken  part  in  that  disastrous  insurrection.  I  had 
had  an  opportunity  of  being  useful  to  him.  He  had  been 
captured,  and  was  kneeling  before  the  firing-party ;  I 
interfered,  and  I  saved  his  life,  together  with  that  of  some 
others,  M.,  D.,  D.,  B.,  and  that  brave-hearted   architect 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  269 

Rolland,  who  when  an  exile,  later  on,  so  ably  restored  the 
Brussels  Palace  of  Justice. 

This  took  place  on  the  24th  June,  1848,  in  the  under- 
ground floor  of  No.  93,  Boulevard  Beaumarchais,  a  house 
then  in  course  of  construction. 

Georges  Biscarrat  became  attached  to  me.  It  appeared 
that  he  was  the  nephew  of  one  of  the  oldest  and  best 
friends  of  my  childhood,  Felix  Biscarrat,  who  died  in 
1828.  Georges  Biscarrat  came  to  see  me  from  time  to 
time,  and  on  occasions  he  asked  my  advice  or  gave  me 
information. 

Wishing  to  preserve  him  from  evil  influences,  I  had 
given  him,  and  he  had  accepted,  this  guiding  maxim,  "No 
insurrection  except  for  Duty  and  for  Right." 

What  was  this  hooting  in  the  Rue  de  l'Echelle  ?  Let 
us  relate  the  incident. 

On  the  2d  of  December,  Bonaparte  had  made  an  attempt 
to  go  out.  lie  had  ventured  to  go  and  look  at  Paris. 
Paris  does  not  like  being  looked  at  by  certain  eyes ;  it 
considers  it  an  insult,  and  it  resents  an  insult  more  than 
a  wound.  It  submits  to  assassination,  but  not  to  the 
leering  gaze  of  the  assassin.  It  took  offence  at  Louis 
Bonaparte. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  at  the  moment  when 
the  Courbevoie  garrison  was  descending  upon  Paris,  the 
placards  af  the  coup  cV6tat  being  still  fresh  upon  the  walls, 
Louis  Bonaparte  had  left  the  Elysee,  had  crossed  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde,  the  Garden  of  the  Tuileries,  and  the  railed 
courtyard  of  the  Carrousel,  and  had  been  seen  to  go  out 
by  the  gate  of  the  Rue  de  l'Echelle.  A  crowd  assembled 
at  once.  Louis  Bonaparte  was  in  a  general's  uniform ; 
his  uncle,  the  ex-King  Jerome,  accompanied  him,  together 
witli  Flahaut,  who  kept  in  the  rear.  Jerome  wore  the  full 
uniform  of  a  Marshal  of  France,  with  a  hat  with  a  white 
feather;  Louis  Bonaparte's  horse  was  a  head  before 
Jerome's  horse.  Louis  Bonaparte  was  gloomy,  Jerome 
attentive,  Flahaut  beaming.  Flahaut  had  his  hat  on  one 
side.  There  was  a  strong  escort  of  Lancers.  Edgar 
Ney  followed.  Bonaparte  intended  to  go  as  far  as  the 
Hotel  de  Ville.  Georges  Biscarrat  was  there.  The  street 
was  unpaved,  the  road  was  being  macadamized;  he 
mounted  on  a  heap  of  stones,  and  shouted,  "  Down  with  the 
Dictator!      Down  with  the  Praetorians!"     The  soldiers 


270  THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 

looked  at  him  with  bewilderment,  and  the  crowd  with  as- 
tonishment. Georges  Biscarrat  (he  told  me  so  himself) 
felt  that  this  cry  was  too  erudite,  and  that  it  would  not  be 
understood,  so  he  shouted,  "  Down  with  Bonaparte !  Down 
with  the  Lancers !  " 

The  effect  of  this  shout  was  electrical.  "  Down  with 
Bonaparte !  Down  with  the  Lancers ! "  cried  the  people, 
and  the  whole  street  became  stormy  and  turbulent. 
"  Down  with  Bonaparte  !  "  The  outcry  resembled  the 
beginning  of  an  execution  ;  Bonaparte  made  a  sudden 
movement  to  the  right,  turned  back,  and  re-entered  the 
courtyard  of  the  Louvre. 

Georges  Biscarrat  felt  it  necessary  to  complete  his  shout 
by  a  barricade. 

He  said  to  the  bookseller,  Benoist  Mouilhe,  who  had 
just  opened  his  shop,  "  Shouting  is  good,  action  is  better." 
lie  returned  to  his  house  in  the  Rue  du  Vert  Bois,  put  on 
a  blouse  and  a  workman's  cap,  and  went  down  into  the 
dark  streets.  Before  the  end  of  the  day  he  had  made 
arrangements  with  four  associations — the  gas-fitters,  the 
last-makers,  the  shawl-makers,  and  the  hatters. 

In  this  manner  he  spent  the  day  of  the  2d  of  December. 

The  day  of  the  3d  was  occupied  in  goings  and  comings 
"  almost  useless."  So  Biscarrat  told  Versigny,  and  he 
added,  "However  1  have  succeeded  in  this  much,  that 
the  placards  of  the  coup  d'etat  have  been  everywhere 
torn  down,  so  much  so  that  in  order  to  render  the 
tearing  down  more  difficult  the  police  have  ultimately 
posted  them  in  the  public  conveniences — their  proper 
place." 

On  Thursday,  the  4th,  early  in  the  morning,  Georges 
Biscarrat  went  to  Ledouble's  restaurant,  where  four 
Representatives  of  the  People  usually  took  their  meals, 
Brives,  Berthelon,  Antoine  Bard,  and  Viguier,  nicknamed 
"Father  Viguier."  All  four  were  there.  Viguier  related 
what  we  had  done  on  the  preceding  evening,  and  shared 
my  opinion  that  the  closing  catastrophe  should  be  hurried 
on,  that  the  Crime  should  be  precipitated  into  the  abyss 
which  befitted  it.  Biscarrat  came  in.  The  Representa- 
tives did  not  know  him,  and  stared  at  him.  "  Who  are 
you?"  asked  one  of  them.  Before  he  could  answer,  Dr. 
Petit  entered,  unfolded  a  paper,  and  said,— 

"  Does  any  one  know  Victor  Hugo's  handwriting  ?  " 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  271 

"I  do,"  said  Biscarrat.  He  looked  at  the  paper.  It 
was  my  proclamation  to  the  army.  "  This  must  be 
printed,"  said  Petit.  "  I  will  undertake  it,"  said  Biscar- 
rat. Antoine  Bard  asked  him,  "Do  you  know  Victor 
Hugo?"  "  He  saved  my  life,"  answered  Biscarrat.  The 
Representatives  shook  hands  with  him. 

Guilgot  arrived.  Then  Versigny.  Versigny  knew  Bis- 
carrat. He  had  seen  him  at  my  house.  Versigny 
said,  "  Take  care  what  you  do.  There  is  a  man  outside 
the  door."  "  It  is  a  shawl-maker,"  said  Biscarrat.  "lie 
has  come  with  me.  lie  is  following  me."  "  But,"  resumed 
Versigny,  "he  is  wearing  a  blouse,  beneath  which  he  has 
a  handkerchief.  He  seems  to  be  hiding  this,  and  he  has 
something  in  the  handkerchief." 

"  Sugar-plums,"  said  Biscarrat. 

They  were  cartridges. 

Versigny  and  Biscarrat  went  to  the  office  of  the  Sie'cle; 
at  the  Steele  thirty  workmen,  at  the  risk  of  being  shot, 
offered  to  print  my  Proclamation.  Biscarrat  left  it  with 
them,  and  said  to  Versigny,  "Now  I  want  my  barricade." 

The  shawl-maker  walked  behind  them.  Versigny  and 
Biscarrat  turned  their  steps  towards  the  top  of  the  Saint 
Denis  quarter.  When  they  drew  near  to  the  Porte  Saint 
Denis  they  heard  the  hum  of  many  voices.  Biscarrat 
laughed  and  said  to  Versigny,  "  Saint  Denis  is  growing 
angry,  matters  are  improving."  Biscarrat  recruited  forty 
combatants  on  the  way,  amongst  whom  was  Moulin,  head 
of  the  association  of  leather-dressers.  Chapuis,  sergeant- 
major  of  the  National  Guard,  brought  them  four  muskets 
and  ten  swords.  "  Do  you  know  where  there  are  any 
more?"  asked  Biscarrat.  "Yes,  at  the  Saint  Sauveur 
Baths."  They  went  there,  and  found  forty  muskets. 
They  gave  them  swords  and  cartridge-pouches.  Gentlemen 
well  dressed,  brought  tin  boxes  containing  powder  and 
balls.  Women,  brave  and  light-hearted,  manufactured 
cartridges.  At  the  first  door  adjoining  the  Due  du  Ila- 
sard-Saint-Sauveur  they  requisitioned  iron  bars  and  ham- 
mers from  a  large  courtyard  belonging  to  a  locksmith. 
Having  the  arms,  they  had  the  men.  They  speedily  num- 
bered a  hundred.  They  began  to  tear  up  the  pavements. 
It  was  half-past  ten.  "Quick!  quick!"  cried  Georges 
Biscarrat,  "the  barricade  of  my  dreams!  "  It  was  in  the 
Rue  Thevenot.      The  barrier  was  constructed  hierh  and 


272  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

formidable.  To  abridge.  At  eleven  o'clock  Georges  Bis- 
carrat  had  completed  his  barricade.  At  noon  he  was 
killed  there. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

OSSIAN   AND    SCIPIO. 

Arrests  grew  more  numerous. 

Towards  noon  a  Commissary  of  Police,  named  Boudrot, 
appeared  at  the  divan  of  the  Rue  Lepelletier.  He  was 
accompanied  by  the  police  agent  Delahodde.  Delahodde 
was  that  traitorous  socialist  writer,  who,  upon  being  un- 
masked, had  passed  from  the  Secret  Police  to  the  Public 
Police  Service.  I  knew  him,  and  I  record  this  incident. 
In  1832  he  was  a  master  in  the  school  at  which  were  my 
two  sons,  then  boys,  and  he  had  addressed  poetry  to  me. 
At  the  same  time  he  was  acting  the  spy  upon  me.  The 
Lepelletier  divan  was  the  place  of  meeting  of  a  large 
number  of  Republican  journalists.  Delahodde  knew  them 
all.  A  detachment  of  the  Republican  Guard  occupied  the 
entrances  to  the  cafe.  Then  ensued  an  inspection  of  all 
the  ordinary  customers,  Delahodde  walking  first,  with 
the  Commissary  behind  him.  Two  Municipal  Guards  fol- 
lowed them.  From  time  to  time  Delahodde  looked  round 
and  said,  "Lay  hold  of  this  man."  In  this  manner  some 
score  of  writers  were  arrested,  among  whom  were  Den- 
nett de  Kesler.*  On  the  preceding  evening  Kesler  had 
been  on  the  Saint  Antoine  barricade.  Kesler  said  to 
Delahodde,  "  You  are  a  miserable  wretch."  "  And  you 
are  an  ungrateful  fellow,"  replied  Delahodde;  "lam 
saving  your  life?'1  Curious  words;  for  it  is  difficult  to 
believe  that  Delahodde  was  in  the  secret  of  what  was  to 
happen  on  the  fatal  day  of  the  Fourth. 

At  the  head-quarters  of  the  Committee  encouraging 
information  was  forwarded  to  us  from  every  side.  Teste- 
lin,  the  Representative  of  Lille,  is  not  only  a  learned  man, 
but  a  brave  man.  On  the  morning  of  the  3d  he  had 
reached,  shortly  after  me,  the  Saint  Antoine  barricade, 

*Died  in  exile  in  Guernsey.  See  the  "Pendant  l'Exil,"  under  the 
heading  Actes  et  Paroles,  vol.  ii. 


THE  niSTOBT  OF  A  CRIME.  273 

where  Baudin  had  just  been  killed.  All  was  at  an  end  in 
that  direction.  Testelin  was  accompanied  by  Charles 
Garabon,  another  dauntless  man*  The  two  Representa- 
tives wandered  through  the  agitated  and  dark  streets, 
little  followed,  in  no  way  understood,  seeking  a  ferment 
of  insurgents,  and  only  finding  a  swarming  of  the  curi- 
ous. Testelin,  nevertheless,  having  come  to  the  Com- 
mittee, informed  us  of  the  following : — At  the  corner  of  a 
street  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Antoine  Gambon  and  him- 
self had  noticed  a  crowd.  They  had  gone  up  to  it.  This 
crowd  was  reading  a  bill  placarded  on  a  wall.  It  was  the 
Appeal  to  Arms  signed  "Victor  Hugo."  Testelin  asked 
Gambon,  "Have  you  a  pencil?"  "Yes,"  answered  Gam- 
bon. Testelin  took  the  pencil,  went  up  to  the  placard, 
and  wrote  his  name  beneath  mine,  then  he  gave  the  pen- 
cil to  Gambon,  who  in  turn  wrote  his  name  beneath  that 
of  Testelin.  Upon  this  the  crowd  shouted,  "Bravo! 
these  are  true-hearted  men  ! "  "  Shout  '  Long  live  the 
Republic! '  "  cried  Testelin.  All  shouted  "  Long  live  the 
Republic  ! "  "  And  from  above,  from  the  open  windows," 
added  Gambon,  "women  clapped  their  hands." 

"  The  little  hands  of  women  applauding  are  a  good  sign," 
said  Michel  de  Bourges. 

As  has  been  seen,  and  we  cannot  lay  too  much  stress 
upon  the  fact,  what  the  Committee  of  Resistance  wished 
was  to  prevent  the  shedding  of  blood  as  much  as  possible. 
To  construct  barricades,  to  let  them  be  destroyed,  and  to 
reconstruct  them  at  other  points,  to  avoid  the  army,  and 
to  wear  it  out,  to  wage  in  Paris  the  war  of  the  desert, 
always  retreating,  never  yielding,  to  take  time  for  an  ally, 
to  add  days  to  days ;  on  the  one  hand  to  give  the  people 
time  to  understand  and  to  rise,  on  the  other,  to  conquer 
the  co up  d'etat  by  the  weariness  of  the  army  ;  such  was 
the  plan  discussed  and  adopted. 

The  order  was  acordingly  given  that  the  barricades 
should  be  but  slightly  defended. 

We  repeated  in  every  possible  form  to  the  comba- 
tants,— 

"  Shed  as  little  blood  as  possible!  Spare  the  blood  of 
the  soldiers  and  husband  your  own." 

Nevertheless,  the  struggle  once  begun,  it  became  impos- 

t  Died  in  exile,  at  Teruionde. 
18 


274  THE  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

sible  in  many  instances,  during  certain  excited  hours  of 
fighting,  to  moderate  their  ardor.  Several  barricades 
were  obstinately  defended,  particularly  those  in  the  line 
Rambuteau,  in  the  Rue  Montorgueil,  and  in  the  Rue 
Neuve  Saint  Eustache. 

These  barricades  were  commanded  by  daring  leaders. 

Here,  for  the  sake  of  history,  we  will  record  a  few  of 
these  brave  men  fighting  outlines  who  appeared  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  smoke  of  the  combat.  Radoux,  an  archi- 
tect, Deluc,  Mallarmet,  Felix  Bony,  Luneau,  an  ex-Cap- 
tain of  the  Republican  Guard,  Camille  Berru,  editor  of  the 
Avenement,  gay,  warmhearted,  and  dauntless,  and  that 
young  Eugene  Millelot,  who  was  destined  to  be  con- 
demned at  Cayenne  to  receive  200  lashes,  and  to  expire  at 
the  twenty-third  stroke,  before  the  very  eyes  of  his 
father  and  brother,  proscribed  and  convicts  like  himself. 

The  barricade  of  the  Rue  Aumaire  was  amongst  those 
which  were  not  carried  without  resistance.  Although 
raised  in  haste,  it  was  fairly  constructed.  Fifteen  or  six- 
teen resolute  men  defended  it ;  two  were  killed. 

The  barricade  was  carried  with  the  bayonet  by  a  bat- 
talion of  the  16th  of  the  line.  This  battalion,  hurled  on 
the  barricade  at  the  double,  was  received  by  a  brisk  fusil- 
lade ;  several  soldiers  were  wounded. 

The  first  who  fell  in  the  soldiers'  ranks  was  an  officer. 
He  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-five,  lieutenant  of  the 
first  company,  named  Ossian  Dumas;  two  balls  broke 
both  of  his  legs  as  though  by  a  single  blow. 

At  that  time  there  were  in  the  army  two  brothers  of  the 
name  of  Dumas,  Ossian  and  Scipio.  Scipio  was  the  elder. 
They  were  near  relatives  of  the  Representative,  Madier 
de  Montjau. 

These  two  brothers  belonged  to  a  poor  but  honored 
family.  The  elder  "had  been  educated  at  the  Polytechnic 
School,  the  other  at  the  School  of  Saint  Cyr. 

Scipio  was  four  years  older  than  his  brother.  Accord- 
ing to  that  splendid  and  mysterious  law  of  ascent,  which 
the  French  Revolution  has  created,  and  which,  so  to 
speak,  has  placed  a  ladder  in  the  centre  of  a  society  hither- 
to caste-bound  and  inaccessible,  Seipio  Dumas'  family 
had  imposed  upon  themselves  the  most  severe  privations 
in  order  to  develop  his  intellect  and  secure  his  future. 
His  relations,  with  the  touching  heroism  of  the  poor  of 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  275 

the  present  era,  denied  themselves  bread  to  afford  him 
knowledge.  In  this  manner  he  attained  to  the  Poly- 
technic School,  where  he  quickly  became  one  of  the  best 
pupils. 

Having  concluded  his  studies,  he  was  appointed  an 
officer  in  the  artillery,  and  sent  to  Metz.  It  then  became 
his  turn  to  help  the  boy  who  had  to  mount  after  him.  He 
held  out  his  hand  to  his  younger  brother.  He  economized 
the  modest  pay  of  an  artillery  lieutenant,  and,  thanks  to 
him,  Ossian  became  an  officer  like  Scipio.  While  Scipio, 
detained  by  duties  belonging  to  his  position,  remained  at 
Metz,  Ossian  was  incorporated  in  an  infantry  regiment, 
and  went  to  Africa.     There  he  saw  his  first  service. 

Scipio  and  Ossian  were  Republicans.  In  October,  1851, 
the  16th  of  the  line,  in  which  Ossian  was  serving,  was 
summoned  to  Paris.  It  was  one  of  the  regiments  chosen 
by  the  ill-omened  hand  of  Louis  Bonaparte,  and  on  which 
the  coiq)  cTetat  counted. 

The  2d  of  December  arrived. 

Lieutenant  Ossian  Dumas  obeyed,  like  nearly  all  his 
comrades,  the  order  to  take  up  arms ;  but  every  one 
round  him  could  notice  his  gloomy  attitude. 

The  day  of  the  3d  was  spent  in  marches  and  counter- 
marches. On  the  4th  the  combat  began.  The  16th, 
which  formed  part  of  the  Herbillon  Brigade,  was  told  off 
to  capture  the  barricades  of  the  Rues  Beaubourg,  Trans- 
nonain,  and  Aumaire.  This  battle-field  was  formidable  ; 
a  perfect  square  of  barricades  had  been  raised  there. 

It  was  by  the  Rue  Aumaire,  and  with  the  regiment  of 
which  Ossian  formed  part,  that  the  military  leaders 
resolved  to  begin  action. 

At  the  moment  when  the  regiment,  with  arms  loaded, 
was  about  to  march  upon  the  Rue  Aumaire,  Ossian 
Dumas  went  up  to  his  captain,  a  brave  and  veteran 
officer,  with  whom  he  was  a  favorite,  and  declared  that 
he  would  not  march  a  step  farther,  that  the  deed  of  the 
2d  of  December  was  a  crime,  that  Louis  Bonaparte  was  a 
traitor,  that  it  was  for  them,  soldiers,  to  maintain  the  oath 
which  Bonaparte  violated ;  and  that,  as  for  himself,  he 
would  not  lend  his  sword  to  the  butchery  of  the  Republic. 

A  halt  was  made.  The  signal  of  attack  was  awaited; 
the  two  officers,  the  old  captain  and  the  young  lieutenant, 
conversed  in  a  low  tone. 


276  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"And  what  do  you  want  to  do?"  asked  the  captain. 

"  Break  my  sword." 

"You  will  be  taken  to  Vincennes." 

"  That  is  all  the  same  to  me." 

"  Most  certainly  dismissed." 

"  Possibly." 

"  Perhaps  shot." 

"  I  expect  it." 

"  But  there  is  no  longer  any  time ;  you  should  have 
resigned  yesterday." 

"  There  is  always  time  to  avoid  committing  a  crime." 

The  captain,  as  may  be  seen,  was  simply  one  of  those 
professional  heroes,  grown  old  in  the  leather  stock,  who 
know  of  no  country  but  the  flag,  and  no  other  law  but 
military  discipline.  Iron  arms  and  wooden  heads.  They 
are  neither  citizens  nor  men.  They  only  recognize  honor 
in  the  form  of  a  general's  epaulets.  It  is  of  no  use 
talking  to  them  of  political  duties,  of  obedience  to  the 
laws,  of  the  Constitution.  What  do  they  know  about  all 
this  ?  What  is  a  Constitution ;  what  are  the  most  holy 
laws,  against  three  words  which  a  corporal  may  murmur 
into  the  ear  of  a  sentinel  ?  Take  a  pair  of  scales,  put  in 
one  side  the  Gospels,  in  the  other  the  official  instructions ; 
now  weigh  them.  The  corporal  turns  the  balance;  the 
Deity  kicks  the  beam. 

God  forms  a  portion  of  the  order  of  the  day  of  Saint 
Bartholemew.     "  Kill  all.     He  will  recognized  His  own." 

This  is  what  the  priests  accept,  and  at  times  glorify. 

Saint  Bartholomew  has  been  blessed  by  the  Pope  and 
decorated  with  the  Catholic  medal.* 

Meanwhile  Ossian  Dumas  appeared  determined.  The 
captain  made  a  last  effort. 

"  You  will  ruin  yourself,"  said  he. 

"I  shall  save  my  honor." 

"It  is  precisely  your  honor  that  you  are  sacrificing." 

"  Because  I  am  going  away  ?  " 

"  To  go  away  is  to  desert." 

This  seemed  to  impress  Ossian  Dumas.  The  captain 
continued, — 

"  They  are  about  to  fight.  In  a  few  minutes  the  barri- 
cade will  be  attacked.     Your  comrades  will  fall,  dead  or 

*  Pro  Hugonotorurn  strage.    Medal  struck  at  Eoiue  in  1572. 


TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  211 

wounded.  You  are  a  young  officer — you  have  not  yet 
been  much  under  fire — " 

"  At  all  events,"  warmly  interrupted  Ossian  Dumas,  "  I 
shall  not  have  fought  against  the  Republic ;  they  will  not 
say  I  am  a  traitor." 

"  No,  but  they  will  say  that  you  are  a  coward." 

Ossian  made  no  reply. 

A  moment  afterwards  the  command  was  given  to  attack. 
The  regiment  started  at  the  double.     The  barricade  fired. 

Ossian  Dumas  was  the  first  who  fell. 

He  had  not  been  able  to  bear  that  word  "  coward,"  and 
he  had  remained  in  his  place  in  the  first  rank. 

They  took  him  to  the  ambulance,  and  from  thence  to 
the  hospital. 

Let  us  at  once  state  the  conclusion  of  this  touching  in- 
cident. 

Both  of  his  legs  were  broken.  The  doctors  thought 
that  it  would  be  necessary  to  amputate  them  both. 

General  Saint-Arnaud  sent  him  the  Cross  of  Honor. 

As  is  known,  Louis  Bonaparte  hastened  to  discharge 
his  debt  to  his  praetorian  accomplices.  After  having  mas- 
sacred, the  sword  voted. 

The  combat  was  still  smoking  when  the  army  was 
brought  to  the  ballot-box. 

The  garrison  of  Paris  voted  "  Yes."     It  absolved  itself. 

With  the  rest  of  the  army  it  was  otherwise.  Military 
honor  was  indignant,  and  roused  the  civic  virtue.  Not- 
withstanding the  pressure  which  was  exercised,  although 
the  regiments  deposited  their  votes  in  the  shakos  of  their 
colonels,  the  army  voted  "  No  "  in  many  districts  of  France 
and  Algeria. 

The  Polytechnic  School  voted  "  No"  in  a  body.  Nearly 
everywhere  the  artillery,  of  which  the  Polytechnic  School 
is  the  cradle,  voted  to  the  same  effect  as  the  school. 

Scipio  Dumas,  it  may  be  remembered,  was  at  Metz. 

By  some  curious  chance  it  happened  that  the  feeling  of 
the  artillery,  which  everywhere  else  bad  pronounced 
against  the  conp  cVctat,  hesitated  at  Metz,  and  seemed  to 
lean  towards  Bonaparte. 

Scipio  Dumas,  in  presence  of  this  indecision  set  an 
example.  lie  voted  in  a  loud  voice,  and  with  an  open 
voting-paper,  "  No." 

Then  he  sent  in   his  resignation.     At  the  same  time 


278  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CJtTME. 

that  the  Minister  at  Paris  received  the  resignation  of  Scipio 
Dumas,  Scipio  Dumas  at  Metz,  received  his  dismissal, 
signed  by  the  Minister. 

After  Scipio  Dumas'  vote,  the  same  thought  had  come 
at  the  same  time  to  both  the  Government  and  to  the 
officer,  to  the  Government  that  the  officer  was  a  danger- 
ous man,  and  that  they  could  no  longer  employ  him,  to 
the  officer  that  the  Government  was  an  infamous  one,  and 
that  he  ought  no  longer  to  serve  it. 

The  resignation  and  the  dismissal  crossed  on  the  way. 

By  this  word  "  dismissal "  must  be  understood  the  with- 
drawal of  employment. 

According  to  our  existing  military  laws  it  is  in  this 
manner  that  they  now  "  break  "  an  officer.  Withdrawal 
of  employment,  that  is  to  say,  no  more  service,  no  more 
pay;  poverty. 

Simultaneously  with  his  dismissal,  Scipio  Dumas  learnt 
the  news  of  the  attack  on  the  barricade  of  the  Rue  Au- 
maire,  and  that  his  brother  had  both  his  legs  broken.  In 
the  fever  of  events  he  had  been  a  week  without  news  of 
Ossian.  Scipio  had  confined  himself  to  writing  to  his 
brother  to  inform  him  of  his  vote  and  of  his  dismissal, 
and  to  induce  him  to  do  likewise. 

His  brother  wounded !  His  brother  at  the  Val-de- 
Grace  !     He  left  immediately  for  Paris. 

He  hastened  to  the  hospital.  They  took  him  to  Ossian's 
bedside.  The  poor  young  fellow  had  had  both  his  legs 
amputated  on  the  preceding  day. 

At  the  moment  when  Scipio,  stunned,  appeared  at  his 
bedside,  Ossian  held  in  his  hand  the  cross  which  General 
Saint- Arnaud  had  just  sent  him. 

The  wounded  man  turned  towards  the  aide-de-camp 
who  had  brought  it,  and  said  to  him, — 

"  I  will  not  have  this  cross.  On  my  breast  it  would  be 
stained  with  the  blood  of  the  Republic." 

And  perceiving  his  brother,  who  had  just  entered,  he 
held  out  the  cross  to  him,  exclaiming, — 

"  You  take  it.  You  have  voted  '  No,'  and  you  have 
broken  your  sword !     It  is  you  who  have  deserved  it !  " 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  279 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    QUESTION   PRESENTS   ITSELF. 

It  was  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

Bonaparte  had  again  become  gloomy. 

The  gleams  of  sunshine  on  such  countenances  as  these 
last  a  very  short  time. 

He  had  gone  back  to  his  private  room,  had  seated  him- 
self before  the  fire,  with  his  feet  on  the  hobs,  motionless, 
and  no  one  any  longer  approached  him  except  Roguet. 

What  was  he  thinking  of? 

The  twistings  of  the  viper  cannot  be  foreseen. 

What  this  man  achieved  on  this  infamous  day  I  have 
told  at  length  in  another  book.  See  "  Napoleon  the 
Little." 

From  time  to  time  Roguet  entered  and  informed  him 
of  what  was  going  on.  Bonaparte  listened  in  silence, 
deep  in  thought,  marble  in  which  a  torrent  of  lava  boiled. 

He  received  at  the  Elysee  the  same  news  that  we 
received  in  the  Rue  Richelieu  ;  bad  for  him,  good  for  us. 
In  one  of  the  regiments  which  had  just  voted,  there 
were  170  "  Noes."  This  regiment  has  since  been  dissolved, 
and  scattered  abroad  in  the  African  army. 

They  had  counted  on  the  14th  of  the  line  which  had 
fired  on  the  people  in  February.  The  Colonel  of  the  14th 
of  the  line  had  refused  to  recommence ;  he  had  just 
broken  his  sword. 

Our  appeal  had  ended  by  being  heard  Decidedly,  as 
we  have  seen,  Paris  was  rising.  The  fall  of  Bonaparte 
seemed  to  be  foreshadowed.  Two  Representatives, 
Fabvier  and  Crestin,  met  in  the  Rue  Royale,  and  Crestin, 
pointing  to  the  Palace  of  the  Assembly,  said  to  Fabvier, 
"  We  shall  be  there  to-morrow." 

One  noteworthy  incident.  Ma/as  became  eccentric,  the 
prison  unbent  itself  ;  the  interior  experienced  an  un de- 
finable reverberation  from  the  outside.  The  warders, 
•who  the  preceding  evening  had  been  insolent  to  t lie  Rep- 
resentatives when  ooing  tor  their  exercise  in  the  court- 
yard, now  saluted  them  to  the  ground.     That  very  morn- 


280  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

ing  of  Thursday,  the  4th,  the  governor  of  the  prison  had 
paid  a  visit  to  the  prisoners,  and  had  said  to  them,  "It  is 
not  my  fault."  He  brought  them  books  and  writing- 
paper,  a  thing  which  up  to  that  time  he  had  refused. 
The  Representative  Valentin  was  in  solitary  confinement; 
on  the  morning  of  the  4th  his  warder  suddenly  became 
amiable,  and  offered  to  obtain  for  him  news  from  outside, 
through  his  wife,  who,  he  said,  had  been  a  servant  in 
General  Leflo's  household.  These  were  significant  signs. 
When  the  jailer  smiles  it  means  that  the  jail  is  half 
opening. 

We  may  add,  what  is  not  a  contradiction,  that  at  the 
same  time  the  garrison  at  Mazas  was  being  increased. 
1200  more  men  were  marched  in,  in  detachments  of  100 
men  each,  spacing  out  their  arrivals  in  "little  doses"  as 
an  eye-witness  remarked  to  us.  Later  on  400  men.  100 
litres  of  brandy  were  distributed  to  them.  One  litre  for 
every  sixteen  men.  The  prisoners  could  hear  the  move- 
ment of  artillery  round  the  prison. 

The  agitation  spread  to  the  most  peaceable  quarters. 
But  the  centre  of  Paris  was  above  all  threatening.  The 
centre  of  Paris  is  a  labyrinth  of  streets  which  appears  to 
be  made  for  the  labyrinth  of  riots.  The  Ligue,  the 
Fronde,  the  Revolution — we  must  unceasingly  recall  these 
useful  facts — the  14th  of  July,  the  10th  of  August,  1792, 
1830,  1848,  have  come  out  from  thence.  These  brave  old 
streets  were  awakened.  At  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning 
from  Notre  Dame  to  the  Porte  Saint  Martin  there  were 
seventy-seven  barricades.  Three  of  them,  one  in  the  Rue 
Maubuce,  another  in  the  Rue  Bertin-Poiree,  another  in  the 
Rue  Guerin-Boisseau,  attained  the  height  of  the  second 
stories ;  the  barricade  of  the  Porte  Saint  Denis  was  almost 
as  bristling  and  as  formidable  as  the  barrier  of  the  Fau- 
bourg Saint  Antoine  in  June,  1848.  The  handful  of  the 
Representatives  of  the  People  had  swooped  down  like  a 
shower  of  sparks  on  these  famous  and  inflammable  cross- 
roads. The  beginning  of  the  fire.  The  fire  had  caught. 
The  old  central  market  quarter,  that  city  which  is  con- 
tained in  the  city,  shouted,  "Down  with  Bonaparte!" 
They  hooted  the  police,  they  hissed  the  troops.  Some 
regiments  seemed  stupefied.  They  cried,  "Throw  up 
your  butt  ends  in  the  air!"  From  the  windows  above, 
women  encouraged  the  construction    of   the   barricades. 


THE  BISTORT  OF  A  CRIME.  281 

There  was  powder  there,  there  were  muskets.  Now,  we 
were  no  longer  alone.  We  saw  rising  up  in  the  gloom 
behind  us  the  enormous  head  of  the  people.  Hope  at  the 
present  time  was  on  our  side.  The  oscillation  of  uncer- 
tainty had  at  length  become  steady,  and  we  were,  I  repeat, 
almost  perfectly  confident. 

There  had  been  a  moment  when,  owing  to  the  good 
news  pouring  in  upon  us,  this  confidence  had  become  so 
great  that  we  who  had  staked  our  lives  on  this  great  con- 
test, seized  with  an  irresistible  joy  in  the  presence  of  a 
success  becoming  hourly  more  certain,  had  risen  from  our 
seats,  and  had  embraced  each  other.  Michel  de  Bourges 
was  particularly  angered  against  Bonaparte,  for  he  had 
believed  his  word,  and  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  say, 
"  He  is  my  man."  Of  the  four  of  us,  he  was  the  most 
indignant.  A  gloomy  flash  of  victory  shone  in  him.  He 
struck  the  table  with  his  fist,  and  exclaimed,  "  Oh !  the 
miserable  wretch  !  to-morrow — "  and  he  struck  the  table 
a  second  time,  "  to-morrow  his  head  shall  fall  in  the  Place 
de  Greve  before  the  Hotel  de  Ville." 

I  looked  at  him. 

"  No,"  said  I,  "this  man's  head  shall  not  fall." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  wish  it." 

"Why?" 

"  Because,"  said  I,  "  if  after  such  a  crime  we  allow  Louis 
Bonaparte  to  live  we  shall  abolish  the  penalty  of  death." 

This  generous  Michel  de  Bourges  remained  thoughtful 
for  a  moment,  then  he  pressed  my  hand. 

Crime  is  an  opportunity,  and  always  gives  us  a  choice, 
and  it  is  better  to  extract  from  it  progress  than  punish- 
ment.    Michel  de  Bourges  realized  this. 

Moreover  this  incident  shows  to  what  a  pitch  our  hopes 
had  been  raised. 

Appearances  were  on  our  side,  actual  facts  not  so. 
Saint-Arnaud  had  his  orders.     We  shall  see  them. 

Strange  incidents  took  place. 

Towards  noon  a  general,  deep  in  thought,  was  on  horse- 
back in  the  Place  de  la  Madeleine,  at  the  head  of  his  waver- 
ing troops.     He  hesitated. 

A  carriage  stopped,  a  woman  stepped  out  and  conversed 
in  a  low  tone  with  the  general.  The  crowd  could  see  her. 
The  Representative  Raymond,  who  lived  at  Xo  4,  Place 


282  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

de  la  Madeleine,  saw  her  from  his  window.  This  woman 
was  Madame  K.  The  general  stooping  down  on  his 
horse,  listened,  and  finally  made  the  dejected  gesture  of 
a  vanquished  man.  Madame  K.  got  back  into  her  carriage. 
This  man,  they  said,  loved  that  woman.  She  could, 
according  to  the  side  of  her  beauty  which  fascinated 
her  victim,  inspire  either  heroism  or  crime.  This  strange 
beauty  was  compounded  of  the  whiteness  of  an  angel, 
combined  with  the  look  of  a  spectre. 

It  was  the  look  which  conquered. 

This  man  no  longer  hesitated.  He  entered  gloomily 
into  the  enterprise. 

From  twelve  to  two  o'clock  there  was  in  this  enormous 
city  given  over  to  the  unknown  an  indescribable  and  fierce 
expectation.  All  was  calm  and  awe-striking.  The  regi- 
ments and  the  limbered  batteries  quitted  the  faubourg 
and  stationed  themselves  noiselessly  around  the  boule- 
vards. Not  a  cry  in  the  ranks  of  the  soldiery.  An  eye- 
witness said,  "  The  soldiers  march  with  quite  a  jaunty 
air."  On  the  Quai  de  la  Ferronnerie,  heaped  up  with 
regiments  ever  since  the  morning  of  the  2d  of  December, 
there  now  only  remained  a  post  of  Municipal  Guards. 
Everything  ebbed  back  to  the  centre,  the  people  as  well 
as  the  army ;  the  silence  of  the  army  had  ultimately  spread 
to  the  people.     They  watched  each  other. 

Each  soldier  had  three  days'  provisions  and  six  packets 
of  cartridges. 

It  has  since  transpired  that  at  this  moment  10,000  francs 
were  daily  spent  in  brandy  for  each  brigade. 

Towards  one  o'clock,  Magnan  went  to  the  Hotel  de 
Ville,  had  the  reserve  limbered  under  his  own  eyes,  and 
did  not  leave  until  all  the  batteries  were  ready  to  march. 

Certain  suspicious  preparations  grew  more  numerous. 
Towards  noon  the  State  workmen  and  the  hospital  corps 
had  established  a  species  of  huge  ambulance  at  Xo.  2, 
Faubourg  Montmartre.  A  great  heap  of  litters  was 
piled  up  there.  "What  is  all  this  for?"  asked  the 
crowd. 

Dr.  Deville,  who  had  attended  Espinasse  when  he  had 
been  wounded,  noticed  him  on  the  boulevard,  and  asked 
him,  "  TJp  to  what  point  are  you  going?" 

Espinasse's  answer  is  historical. 

He  replied,  "  To  the  end." 


IRE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  288 

At  two  o'clock  five  brigades,  those  of  Cotte,  Bourgon, 
Canrobert,  Dulac,  and  Reybell,  five  batteries  of  artillery, 
16,400  men,*  infantry  and  cavalry,  lancers,  cuirassiers, 
grenadiers,  gunners,  were  echelloned  without  any  osten- 
sible reason  between  the  Rue  de  laPaixand  the  Faubourg 
Poissonniere.  Pieces  of  cannon  were  pointed  at  the  en- 
trance of  every  street ;  there  were  eleven  in  position  on 
the  Boulevard  Poissoniere  alone.  The  foot  soldiers  had 
their  guns  to  their  shoulders,  the  officers  their  swords 
drawn.  What  did  all  this  mean  ?  It  was  a  curious  sight, 
well  worth  the  trouble  of  seeing,  and  on  both  sides  of  the 
pavements,  on  all  the  thresholds  of  the  shops,  from  all 
the  stories  of  the  houses,  an  astonished,  ironical,  and 
confiding  crowd  looked  on. 

Little  by  little,  nevertheless,  this  confidence  diminished, 
and  irony  gave  place  to  astonishment ;  astonishment 
changed  to  stupor.  Those  who  have  passed  through  that 
extraordinary  minute  will  not  forget  it.  It  was  evident 
that  there  was  something  underlying  all  this.  But  what? 
Profound  obscurity.  Can  one  imagine  Paris  in  a  cellar  ? 
People  felt  as  though  they  were  beneath  a  low  ceiling. 
They  seemed  to  be  walled  up  in  the  unexpected  and  the 
unknown.  They  seemed  to  perceive  some  mysterious 
will  in  the  background.  But  after  all  they  were  strong; 
they  were  the  Republic,  they  were  Paris  ;  what  was  there 
to  fear!  Nothing.  And  they  cried,  "Down  with  Bona- 
parte ! "  The  troops  continued  to  keep  silence,  but  the 
swords  remained  outside  their  scabbards,  and  the  lighted 
matches  of  the  cannon  smouldered  at  the  corners  of  the 
streets.  The  cloud  grew  blacker  every  minute,  heavier 
and  more  silent.  This  thickening  of  the  darkness  was 
tragical.  One  felt  the  coming  crash  of  a  catastrophe,  and 
the  presence  of  a  villain ;  snake  like  treason  writhed  dur- 
ing this  night,  and  none  can  foresee  where  the  downward 
slide  of  a  terrible  design  will  stop  when  events  are  on  a 
steep  incline. 

What  was  coming  out  of  this  thick  darkness  ? 

*  10,410  men,  the  figures  takeu  from  the  Ministry  of  War. 


284  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

CHAPTER.  XVI. 

THE   MASSACRE. 

Suddenly  a  window  was  opened. 

Upon  Hell. 

Dante,  had  he  leaned  over  the  summit  of  the  shadow, 
would  have  been  able  to  see  the  eighth  circle  of  his  poem  ; 
the  funereal  Boulevard  Montmartre. 

Paris,  a  prey  to  Bonaparte ;  a  monstrous  spectacle. 

The  gloomy  armed  men  massed  together  on  this  boule- 
vard felt  an  appalling  spirit  enter  into  them ;  they  ceased 
to  be  themselves,  and  became  demons. 

There  was  no  longer  a  single  French  soldier,  but  a  host 
of  indefinable  phantoms,  carrying  out  a  horrible  task,  as 
though  in  the  glimmering  light  of  a  vision. 

There  was  no  longer  a  flag,  there  was  no  longer  law, 
there  was  no  longer  humanity,  there  was  no  longer  a 
country,  there  was  no  longer  France ;  they  began  to 
assassinate. 

The  Schinderhannes  division,  the  brigades  of  Mandrin, 
Cartouche,  Poulailler,  Trestaillon,  and  Tropmann  appeared 
in  the  gloom,  shooting  down  and  massacring. 

"  No ;  we  do  not  attribute  to  the  French  army  what 
took  place  during  this  mournful  eclipse  of  honor. 

There  have  been  massacres  in  history,  abominable  ones 
assuredly,  but  they  have  possessed  some  show  of  reason ; 
Saint  Bartholomew  and  the  Dragonnades  are  explained 
by  religion,  the  Sicilian  Vespers  and  the  butcheries  of 
September  are  explained  by  patriotism ;  they  crush  the 
enemy  or  annihilate  the  foreigner ;  these  are  crimes  for  a 
good  cause ;  but  the  carnage  of  the  Boulevard  Montmartre 
is  a  crime  without  an  ostensible  reason. 

The  reason  exists,  however.     It  is  hideous. 

Let  us  give  it. 

Two  things  stand  erect  in  a  State,  the  Law  and  the 
People. 

A  man  murders  the  Law.  He  feels  the  punishment 
approaching,  there  only  remains  one  thing  for  him  to  do, 
to  murder  the  People.     He  murders  the  People. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  285 

The  Second  of  December  was  the  Risk,  the  Fourth  was 
the  Certainty. 

Against  the  indignation  which  arose  they  opposed  the 
Terror. 

The  Fury,  Justice,  halted  petrified  before  the  Fury,  Ex- 
termination.    Against  Erinnyes  they  set  up  Medusa. 

To  put  Nemesis  to  flight,  what  a  terrifying  triumph ! 

To  Louis  Napoleon  pertains  this  glory,  which  is  the 
summit  of  his  shame. 

Let  us  narrate  it. 

Let  us  narrate  what  History  had  never  seen  before. 

The  assassination  of  a  people  by  a  man. 

Suddenly,  at  a  given  signal,  a  musket  shot  being  fired, 
no  matter  where,  no  matter  by  whom,  the  shower  of  bul- 
lets poured  upon  the  crowd.  A  shower  of  bullets  is  also 
a  crowd;  it  is  death  scattered  broadcast.  It  does  not 
know  whither  it  goes,  nor  what  it  does;  it  kills  and 
passes  on. 

But  at  the  same  time  it  has  a  species  of  soul;  it  is 
premeditated,  it  executes  a  will.  This  was  an  unprece- 
dented moment.  It  seemed  as  though  a  handful  of  light- 
nings was  falling  upon  the  people.  Nothing  simpler.  It 
formed  a  clear  solution  to  the  difficulty;  the  rain  of  lead 
overwhelmed  the  multitude.  What  are  you  doing  there  ? 
Die !  It  is  a  crime  to  be  passing  by.  Why  are  you  in 
the  street  ?  Why  do  you  cross  the  path  of  the  Govern- 
ment ?  The  Government  is  a  cut-throat.  They  have  an- 
nounced a  thing,  they  must  certainly  carry  it  out ;  what 
is  begun  must  assuredly  be  achieved  ;  as  Society  is  being 
saved,  the  People  must  assuredly  be  exterminated. 

Are  there  not  social  necessities?  Is  it  not  essential 
that  Beville  should  have  87,000  francs  a  year  and  Fleury 
95,000  francs  ?  Is  it  not  essential  that  the  High  Chaplain, 
Menjaud,  Bishop  of  Nancy,  should  have  342  francs  a  day, 
and  that  Bassano  and  Cambaceres  should  each  have  383 
francs  a  day,  and  Vaillant  468  francs,  and  Saint- Arnaud 
822  francs  ?  Is  it  not  necessary  that  Louis  Bonaparte 
should  have  76,712  francs  a  day  ?  Could  one  be  Emperor 
for  less  ? 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  there  was  a  butchery  on  the 
boulevard  a  quarter  of  a  league  long.  Eleven  pieces  of 
cannon  wrecked  the  Sallandrouze  carpet  warehouse.  The 
shot  tore  completely  through  twenty -eight  houses.     The 


286  THE  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

baths  of  Jouvence  were  riddled.  There  was  a  massacre 
at  Tortoni's.  A  whole  quarter  of  Paris  was  filled  with 
an  immense  flying  mass,  and  with  a  terrible  cry.  Every- 
where sudden  death.  A  man  is  expecting  nothing.  He 
falls.  From  whence  does  this  come  ?  From  above,  say 
the  Bishops'  Te  Beam ;  from  below,  says  Truth. 

From  a  lower  place  than  the  galleys,  from  a  lower  place 
than  Hell. 

It  is  the  conception  of  a  Caligula,  carried  out  by  a 
Papavoine. 

Xavier  Durrieu  comes  upon  the  boulevard.     He  states, — 

"I  have  taken  sixty  steps,  I  have  seen  sixty  corpses." 
And  he  draws  back.  To  be  in  the  street  is  a  Crime,  to 
be  at  home  is  a  Crime.  The  butchers  enter  the  houses 
and  slaughter.  In  slaughter-house  slang  the  soldiers  cry, 
"  Let  us  pole-axe  the  lot  of  them." 

Adde,  a  bookseller,  of  17,  Boulevard  Poissonniere,  is 
standing  before  his  door ;  they  kill  him.  At  the  same 
moment,  for  the  field  of  murder  is  vast,  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  there,  at  5,  Hue  de  Lancry,  INI.  Thirion  de 
Montauban,  owner  of  the  house,  is  at  his  door  ;  they  kill 
him.  In  the  Rue  Tiquetonne  a  child  of  seven  years, 
named  Boursier,  is  passing  by ;  they  kill  him.  Mdlle. 
Soulac,  196,  Rue  du  Temple,  opens  her  window;  they 
kill  her.  At  Xo.  97,  in  the  same  street,  two  women,  Mes- 
dames  Viclal  and  Raboisson,  sempstresses,  are  in  their 
room;  they  kill  them.  Belval,  a  cabinet-maker,  10,  Rue 
de  la  Lune,  is  at  home ;  they  kill  him.  Debaecque,  a 
merchant,  45,  Rue  du  Sentier,  is  in  his  own  house  ;  Cou- 
vercelle,  florist,  257,  Rue  Saint  Denis,  is  in  his  own  house  ; 
Labitte,  a  jeweller,  55,  Boulevard  Saint  Martin,  is  in  his 
own  house;  Monpelas,  perfumer,  181,  Rue  Saint  Martin, 
is  in  his  own  house ;  they  kill  Monpelas,  Labitte,  Cou- 
vercelle,  and  Debaecque.  They  sabre  at  her  own  home, 
240,  Rue  Saint  Martin,  a  poor  embroideress,  Mdlle.  Se- 
guin,  who  not  having  sufficient  money  to  pay  for  a  doctor, 
died  at  the  Beaujon  hospital,  on  the  1st  of  January,  1852, 
on  the  same  day  that  the  Sibour  Te  Deum  was  chanted 
at  Notre  Dame.  Another,  a  waistcoat-maker,  Franyoise 
Noel,  was  shot  down  at  20,  Rue  du  Faubourg  Montmartre, 
and  died  in  the  Charite.  Another,  Madame  Ledaust,  a 
working  housekeeper,  living  at  76,  Passage  du  Caire,  was 
short  down  before  the  Archbishop's  palace,  and  died  at 


THE  niSTOBY  OF  A  CRIME.  287 

the  Morgue.  Passers-by,  Mdlle.  Gressier,  living  at  209, 
Faubourg  Saint  Martin;  Madame  Guilard,  living  at  77, 
Boulevard  Saint  Denis ;  Madame  Gamier,  living  at  6, 
Boulevard  Bonne  Nouvelle,  who  had  fallen,  the  first  named 
beneath  the  volleys  on  the  Boulevard  Montmartre,  the 
two  others  on  the  Boulevard  Saint  Denis,  and  who  were 
still  alive,  attempted  to  rise,  and  became  targets  for  the 
soldiers,  bursting  with  laughter,  and  this  time  fell  back 
again  dead.  Deeds  of  gallantry  were  performed.  Colonel 
Rochefort,  who  was  probably  created  General  for  this, 
charged  in  the  Hue  de  la  Paix  at  the  head  of  his  Lancers 
a  flock  of  nurses,  who  were  put  to  flight. 

Such  was  this  indescribable  enterprise.  All  the  men 
who  took  part  in  it  were  instigated  by  hidden  influences ; 
all  had  something  which  urged  them  forward  ;  Ilerbillon 
had  Zaatcha  behind  him;  Saint-Arnaud  had  Kabylia; 
Renault  had  the  affair  of  the  Saint-Andre  and  Saint  Ilip- 
polyte  villages  ;  Espinasse,  Rome  and  the  storming  of  the 
30th  of  June;  Magnan,  his  debts. 

Must  we  continue?  We  hesitate.  Dr.  Piquet,  a  man 
of  sevent}%  was  killed  in  his  drawing-room  by  a  ball  in 
his  stomach  ;  the  painter  Jollivart,  by  a  ball  in  the  fore- 
head, before  his  easel,  his  brains  bespattered  his  painting. 
The  English  captain,  William  Jesse,  narrowly  escaped  a 
ball  which  pierced  the  ceiling  above  his  head ;  in  the 
library  adjoining  the  Magasins  du  Propbete,  a  father, 
mother,  and  two  daughters  were  sabred.  Lelilleul,  another 
bookseller,  was  shot  in  his  shop  on  the  Boulevard  Pois- 
sonniere;  in  the  Rue  Lepelletier,  Boyer,  a  chemist,  seated 
at  his  counter,  was  "  spitted"  by  the  Lancers.  A  captain, 
killing  all  before  him,  took  by  storm  the  house  of  the 
Grand  Balcon.  A  servant  was  killed  in  the  shop  of 
Brandus.  Reybell  through  the  volleys  said  to  Sax,  "And 
I  also  am  discoursing  sweet  music."  The  Cafe  Leblond 
was  given  over  to  pillage.  Billecoq's  establishment  was 
bombarded  to  such  a  degree  that  it  had  to  be  pulled  down 
the  next  day.  Before  Jouvain's  house  lay  a  heap  of 
corpses,  amongst  them  an  old  man  with  his  umbrella,  and 
a  young  man  with  his  eye-glass.  The  Hotel  de  Castille, 
the  Maison  Doree,  the  Petite  Jeannette,  the  Cafe  de  Paris, 
the  Cafe  Anglais  became  for  three  hours  the  targets  of  the 
cannonade.  Haquenault's  house  (.'rumbled  beneath  the 
shells  ;  the  bullets  demolished  the  Montmartre  Bazaar. 


288  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

None  escaped.  The  guns  and  pistols  were  fired  at  close 
quarters. 

New  Year's-day  was  not  far  off,  some  shops  were  full 
of  New  Year's  gifts.  In  the  passage  du  Saumon,  a  child 
of  thirteen,  flying  before  the  platoon-firing,  hid  himself 
in  one  of  these  shops,  beneath  a  heap  of  toys.  He  was 
captured  and  killed.  Those  who  killed  him  laughingly 
widened  his  wounds  with  their  swords.  A  woman  told 
me,  "  The  cries  of  the  poor  little  fellow  could  be  heard  all 
through  the  passage."  Four  men  were  shot  before  the 
same  shop.  The  officer  said  to  them,  "  This  will  teach 
you  to  loaf  about."  A  fifth  named  Mailleret,  who  was 
left  for  dead,  was  carried  the  next  day  with  eleven  wounds 
to  the  Charite.     There  he  died. 

They  fired  into  the  cellars  by  the  air-holes. 

A  workman,  a  currier,  named  Moulins,  who  had  taken 
refuge  in  one  of  these  shot-riddled  cellars,  saw  through 
the  cellar  air-hole  a  passer-by,  who  had  been  wounded  in 
the  thigh  by  a  bullet,  sit  down  on  the  pavement  with  the 
death  rattle  in  his  throat,  and  lean  against  a  shop.  Some 
soldiers  who  heard  this  rattle  ran  up  and  finished  off  the 
wounded  man  with  bayonet  thrusts. 

One  brigade  killed  the  passer-by  from  the  Madeleine  to 
the  Opera,  another  from  the  Opera  to  the  Gymnase ; 
another  from  the  Boulevard  Bonne  Nouvelle  to  the  Porte 
Saint  Denis ;  the  75th  of  the  line  having  carried  the 
barricade  of  the  Porte  Saint  Denis,  it  was  longer  a  fight, 
it  was  a  slaughter.  The  massacre  radiated — a  word  hor- 
ribly true — from  the  boulevard  into  all  the  streets.  It 
was  a  devil-fish  stretching  out  its  feelers.  Flight  ?  Why  ? 
Concealment?  To  what  purpose?  Death  ran  after  you 
quicker  than  you  could  fly.  In  the  Rue  Pagevin  a  soldier 
said  to  a  passer-by,  "  What  are  you  doing  here ?  "  "I  am 
going  home."  The  soldier  kills  the  passer-by.  In  the 
Rue  des  Marais  they  kill  four  young  men  in  their  own 
courtyard.  Colonel  Fspinasse  exclaimed,  "After  the 
bayonet,  cannon  !  "  Colonel  1  tochefort  exclaimed, "  Thrust, 
bleed,  slash  !  "  and  he  added,  "  It  is  an  economy  of  powder 
and  noise."  Before  Barbedienne's  establishment  an  officer 
was  showing  his  gun,  an  arm  of  considerable  precision, 
admiringly  to  his  comrades,  and  he  said,  "  Willi  this  gun 
I  can  score  magnificent  shots  between  the  eyes."  Having 
said  this,  he  aimed  at  random  at  some  one,  and  succeeded. 


THE  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  289 

The  carnage  was  frenzied.  "While  the  butchering  under 
the  orders  of  Carrelet  filled  the  boulevard,  the  Bourgon 
brigade  devastated  the  Temple,  the  Marulaz  brigade 
devastated  the  Rue  Rambuteau ;  the  Renault  divsion 
distinguished  itself  on  the  "  other  side  of  the  water." 
Renault  was  that  general,  who,  at  Mascara,  had  given 
his  pistols  to  Charras.  In  1848  he  had  said  to  Charras, 
"  Europe  must  be  revolutionized."  And  Charras  had  said, 
"Not  quite  so  fast!"  Louis  Bonaparte  had  made  him  a 
General  of  Division  in  July,  1851.  The  Rue  aux  Ours 
was  especially  devastated.  Morny  that  evening  said  to 
Louis  Bonaparte,  "The  15th  Light  Infantry  have  scored 
a  success.     They  have  cleaned  out  the  Rue  aux  Ours." 

At  the  corner  of  the  Rue  du  Sentier  an  officer  of  Spahis, 
with  his  sword  raised,  cried  out,  "  This  is  not  the  sort  of 
thing !  You  do  not  understand  at  all.  Fire  on  the  women." 
A  woman  was  flying,  she  was  with  child,  she  falls,  they 
deliver  her  by  the  means  of  the  butt-ends  of  their 
mnskets.  Another,  perfectly  distracted,  was  turning 
the  corner  of  a  street.  She  was  carrying  a  child.  Two 
soldiers  aimed  at  her.  One  said,  "At  the  woman!" 
And  he  brought  down  the  woman.  The  child  rolled  on 
the  pavement.  The  other  soldier  said,  "  At  the  child  ! " 
And  he  killed  the  child. 

A  man  of  high  scientific  repute,  Dr.  Germain  See, 
declares  that  in  one  house  alone,  the  establishment  of  the 
Jouvence  Baths,  there  were  at  six  o'clock,  beneath  a  shed 
in  the  courtyard,  about  eighty  wounded,  nearly  all  of 
whom  (seventy,  at  least)  were  old  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren.    Dr.  See  was  the  first  to  attend  to  them. 

In  the  Rue  Mandar,  there  was,  stated  an  eye-witness, 
"  a  rosary  of  corpses,"  reaching  as  far  as  the  Rue  Xeuve 
Saint  Eustache.  Before  the  house  of  Odier  twenty-six 
corpses.  Thirty  before  the  Hotel  Montmorency.  Fifty- 
two  before  the  Varietes,  of  whom  eleven  were  women. 
In  the  Rue  Grange-Bateliere  there  were  three  naked 
corpses.  No.  19,  Faubourg  Montmartre,  was  full  of  dead 
and  wounded. 

A  woman,  flying  and  maddened,  with  dishevelled  hair 
and  her  arms  raised  aloft,  ran  along  the  Rue  Poissonniere, 
crying,  "They  kill!  they  kill !  they  kill !  they  kill!  they 
kill ! " 

The  soldiers  wagered.  "  Bet  you  I  bring  down  that 
19 


290  THE  Til  STORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

fellow  there."  In  this  manner  Count  Poninsky  was  killed 
whilst  going  into  his  own  house,  52,  Rue  de  la  Paix. 

I  was  anxious  to  know  what  I  ought  to  do.  Certain 
treasons,  in  order  to  he  proved,  need  to  be  investigated. 
I  went  to  the  field  of  murder. 

In  such  mental  agony  as  this,  from  very  excess  of  feel- 
ing one  no  longer  thinks,  or  if  one  thinks,  it  is  distract- 
edly. One  only  longs  for  some  end  or  other.  The 
death  of  others  instills  in  you  so  much  horror  that  your 
own  death  becomes  an  object  of  desire;  that  is  to  say,  if 
by  dying,  you  would  be  in  some  degree  useful !  One 
calls  to  mind  deaths  which  have  put  an  end  to  angers  and 
to  revolts.  One  only  retains  this  ambition,  to  be  a  useful 
corpse. 

I  walked  along  terribly  thoughtful. 

I  went  towards  the  boulevards ;  I  saw  there  a  furnace ; 
I  heard  there  a  thunderstorm. 

I  saw  Jules  Simon  coming  up  to  me,  who  during  these 
disastrous  days  bravely  risked  a  precious  life.  He 
stopped  me.  "Where  are  you  going?"  he  asked  me. 
"  You  will  be  killed.  What  do  you  want  ? "  "  That  very 
thing,"  said  I. 

We  shook  hands. 

I  continued  to  go  on. 

I  reached  the  boulevard ;  the  scene  was  indescribable. 
I  witnessed  this  crime,  this  butchery,  this  tragedy.  I 
saw  that  reign  of  blind  death,  I  saw  the  distracted  victims 
fall  around  me  in  crowds.  It  is  for  this  that  I  have  signed 
myself  in  this  book  AN  EYE- WITNESS. 

Destiny  entertains  a  purpose.  It  watches  mysteriously 
over  the  future  historian.  It  allows  him  to  mingle  with 
exterminations  and  carnages,  but  it  does  not  permit  him 
to  die,  because  it  wishes  him  to  relate  them. 

In  the  midst  of  this  inexpressible  Pandemonium,  Xavier 
Durrieu  met  me  as  I  was  crossing  the  bullet-swept  boule- 
vard. He  said  to  me,  "  Ah,  here  you  are.  I  have  just 
met  Madame  D.  She  is  looking  for  you."  Madame  D.  * 
and  Madame  de  la  R.,f  two  noble  and  brave  women,  had 
promised  Madame  Victor  Hugo,  who  was  ill  in  bed,  to 
ascertain  where  I  was,  and  to  give  her  some  news  of  me. 
Madame  D.  had  heroically  ventured  into  this  carnage. 

*Xo.  20,  Cite  Eodier    t  Rue  Caumartin.     See  pages  142,  145-14S. 


TI1E  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  291 

The  following  incident  happened  to  her.  She  stopped 
before  a  heap  of  bodies,  and  had  had  the  courage  to  mani- 
fest her  indignation ;  at  the  cry  of  horror  to  which  she 
gave  vent,  a  cavalry  soldier  had  run  up  behind  her  with  a 
pistol  in  his  hand,  and  had  it  not  been  for  a  quickly  opened 
door  through  which  she  threw  herself,  and  which  saved 
her,  she  would  have  been  killed. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  total  slaughter  in  this 
butchery  is  unrecorded.  Bonaparte  has  kept  these  figures 
hidden  in  darkness.  Such  is  the  habit  of  those  who 
commit  massacres.  They  are  scarcely  likely  to  allow 
history  to  certify  the  number  of  the  victims.  These 
statistics  are  an  obscure  multitude  which  quickly  lose 
themselves  in  the  gloom.  One  of  the  two  colonels  of 
whom  we  have  had  a  glimpse  in  pages  223 — 225  of  this 
work,  has  stated  that  his  regiment  alone  had  killed  "  at 
least  2,500  persons."  This  would  be  more  than  one  person 
per  soldier.  We  believe  that  this  zealous  colonel  ex- 
aggerates.    Crime  sometimes  boasts  of  its  blackness. 

Lireux,  a  writer,  arrested  in  order  to  be  shot,  and  who 
escaped  by  a  miracle,  declares  that  he  saw  "  more  than 
800  corpses." 

Towards  four  o'clock  the  post-chaises  which  were  in 
the  courtyard  of  the  Elysee  were  unhorsed  and  put  up. 

This  extermination,  which  an  English  witness,  Captain 
William  Jesse,  calls  "a  wanton  fusillade,"  lasted  from  two 
till  five  o'clock.  During  these  three  terrible  hours,  Louis 
Bonaparte  carried  out  what  he  had  been  premeditating, 
and  completed  his  work.  Up  to  that  time  the  poor  little 
"  middle-class  "  conscience  was  almost  indulgent.  Well, 
what  of  it  ?  It  was  a  game  at  Prince,  a  species  of  state 
swindling,  a  conjuring  feat  on  a  large  scale ;  the  sceptics 
and  the  knowing  men  said,  "  It  is  a  good  joke  played  upon 
those  idiots."  Suddenly  Louis  Bonaparte  grew  uneasy 
and  revealed  all  his  policy.  "  Tell  Saint-Arnaud  to 
execute  my  orders."  Saint-Arnaud  obeyed,  the  coup 
(Fi'tut  acted  according  to  its  own  code  of  laws,  and  from 
that  appalling  moment  an  immense  torrent  of  blood  began 
to  flow  across  this  crime. 

They  left  the  corpses  lying  on  the  pavements,  wild- 
looking,  livid,  stupefied,  with  their  pockets  turned  inside 
out.     The  military  murderer  is  thus  condemned  to  mount 


292  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

the  villainous  scale  of  guilt.  In  the  morning  an  assassin, 
in  the  evening  a  thief. 

When  night  came  enthusiasm  and  joy  reigned  at  the 
Ely  see.  These  men  triumphed.  Conneau  has  ingeniously 
related  the  scene.  The  familiar  spirits  were  delirious 
with  joy.  Fialin  addressed  Bonaparte  in  hail-fellow-well- 
met  style.  "You  had  better  break  yourself  of  that," 
whispered  Vieillard.  In  truth  this  carnage  made  Bona- 
parte Emperor.  He  was  now  "His  Majesty."  They 
drank,  they  smoked  like  the  soldiers  on  the  boulevards ; 
for  having  slaughtered  throughout  the  day,  they  drank 
throughout  the  night ;  wine  flowed  upon  the  blood.  At 
the  Elysee  they  were  amazed  at  the  result.  They  were 
enraptured;  they  loudly  expressed  their  admiration. 
"  What  a  capital  idea  the  Prince  had  had !  How  well  the 
thing  had  been  managed!  This  was  much  better  than 
flying  the  country,  by  Dieppe,  like  DTIaussez ;  or  by 
Membrolle,  like  Guernon-Ranville ;  or  being  captured, 
disguised  as  a  footboy,  and  blacking  the  boots  of  Madame 
de  Saint  Fargeau,  like  poor  Polignac  !  "  "  Guizot  was  no 
cleverer  than  Polignac,"  exclaimed  Persigny.  Fleury 
turned  to  Morny :  "  Your  theorists  would  not  have  suc- 
ceeded in  a  coup  d'etat."  "  That  is  true,  they  were  not 
particularly  vigorous,"  answered  Morny.  He  added, 
"And  yet  they  were  clever  men, — Louis  Philippe,  Guizot, 

Thiers -"     Louis  Bonaparte,  taking  his  cigarette  from 

his  lips,  interrupted,  "  If  such  are  clever  men,  I  would 
rather  be  an  ass " 

"A  hyena  in  an  ass's  skin,"  says  History. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    APPOINTMENT    MADE    WITH    THE    WORKMEN'S 

SOCIETIES. 

What  had  become  of  our  Committee  during  these  tragic 
events,  and  what  was  it  doing  ?  It  is  necessary  to  relate 
what  took  place. 

Let  us  go  back  a  few  hours. 

At  the  moment  when  this  strange  butchery  began,  the 
seat  of  the  Committee  was  still  in  the  Rue  Richelieu.     I 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  293 

had  gone  back  to  it  after  the  exploration  which  I  had 
thought  it  proper  to  make  at  several  of  the  quarters  in 
insurrection,  and  I  gave  an  account  of  what  I  had  seen  to 
my  colleagues.  Madier  de  Montjau,  who  also  arrived 
from  the  barricades,  added  to  my  report  details  of  what 
he  had  seen.  For  some  time  we  heard  terrible  explosions, 
which  appeared  to  be  close  by,  and  which  mingled  them- 
selves with  our  conversation.  Suddenly  Versigny  came 
in.  He  told  us  that  horrible  events  were  taking  place  on 
the  Boulevards ;  that  the  meaning  of  the  conflict  could 
not  yet  be  ascertained,  but  that  they  were  cannonading, 
and  firing  volleys  of  musket-balls,  and  that  the  corpses 
bestrewed  the  pavement;  that,  according  to  all  appear- 
ances, it  was  a  massacre, — a  sort  of  Saint  Bartholomew 
improvised  by  the  coup  d'etat ;  that  they  were  ransacking 
the  houses  at  a  few  steps  from  us,  and  that  they  were 
killing  every  one.  The  murderers  were  going  from  door 
to  door,  and  were  drawing  near.  ITe  urged  us  to  leave 
Grevy's  house  without  delay.  It  was  manifest  that  the 
Insurrectionary  Committee  would  be  a  "  find "  for  the 
bayonets.  We  decided  to  leave,  Avhereupon  M.  Dupont 
White,  a  man  distinguished  for  his  noble  character  and 
his  talent,  offered  us  a  refuge  at  his  house,  11,  Rue  Mont- 
habor.  We  went  out  by  the  back-door  of  Grevy's  house, 
which  led  into  1,  Rue  Fontaine  Moliere,  but  leisurely, 
and  two  by  two,  Madier  de  Montjau  with  Versigny, 
Michel  de  Bourges  with  Carnot,  myself  arm-in  arm  with 
Jules  Favre.  Jules  Favre,  dauntless  and  smiling  as  ever, 
wrapped  a  comforter  over  his  mouth,  and  said,  "  I  do  not 
much  mind  being  shot,  but  I  do  mind  catching  cold." 

Jules  Favre  and  I  reached  the  rear  of  Saint  Roch,  by 
the  Rue  des  Moulins.  The  Rue  Neuve  Saint  Roch  was 
thronged  with  a  mass  of  affrighted  passers-by,  who  came 
from  the  Boulevards  flying  rather  than  walking.  The 
men  were  talking  in  a  loud  voice,  the  women  screaming. 
We  could  hear  the  cannon  and  the  ear-piercing  rattle  of 
the  musketry.  All  the  shops  were  being  shut.  M.  de 
Falloux,  arm-in-arm  with  M.  Albert  de  Resseguier,  was 
striding  down  the  Rue  de  Saint  Roch  and  hurrying  to  the 
Rue  Saint  Ilonore. 

The  Rue  Saint  Ilonore  presented  a  scene  of  clamorous 
agitation.  People  were  coming  and  going,  stopping,  ques- 
tioning one  another,  running.     The  shopkeepers,  at  the 


294  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

threshold  of  their  half-opened  doors,  asked  the  passers- 
by  what  was  taking  place,  and  were  only  answered  by  this 
cry,  "  Oh,  my  God  ! "  People  came  out  of  their  houses 
bareheaded  and  mingled  with  the  crowd.  A  tine  rain  was 
falling.  Not  a  carriage  in  the  street.  At  the  corner  of 
the  Rue  Saint  Roch  and  Rue  Saint  Honore  we  heard  voices 
behind  us  saying,  "  Victor  Hugo  is  killed." 

"  Not  yet,"  said  Jules  Favre,  continuing  to  smile,  and 
pressing  my  arm. 

They  had  said  the  same  thing  on  the  preceding  day  to 
Esquiros  and  to  Madier  de  Montjau.  And  this  rumor,  so 
agreeable  to  the  Reactionaries,  had  even  reached  my  two 
sons,  prisoners  in  the  Conciergerie. 

The  stream  of  people  driven  back  from  the  Boulevards 
and  from  the  Rue  Richelieu  flowed  towards  the  Rue  de  la 
Paix.  We  recognized  there  some  of  the  Representatives 
of  the  Right  who  had  been  arrested  on  the  2d,  and  who 
were  already  released.  M.  Buffet,  an  ex-minister  of  M. 
Bonaparte,  accompanied  by  numerous  other  members  of 
the  Assembly,  was  going  towards  the  Palais  Royal.  As  he 
passed  close  by  us  he  pronounced  the  name  of  Louis  Bona- 
parte in  a  tone  of  execration. 

M.  Buffet  is  a  man  of  some  importance ;  he  is  one  of  the 
three  political  advisers  of  the  Right ;  the  two  others  are 
M.  Fould  and  M.  Mole. 

In  the  Rue  Monthabor,  two  steps  from  the  Rue  Saint 
Honore,  there  was  silence  and  peace.  Not  one  passer-by, 
not  a  door  open,  not  a  head  out  of  window. 

In  the  apartment  into  which  we  were  conducted,  on  the 
third  story,  the  calm  was  not  less  perfect.  The  windows 
looked  upon  an  inner  courtyard.  Five  or  six  red  arm-chairs 
were  drawn  up  before  the  fire  ;  on  the  table  could  be  seen 
a  few  books  which  seemed  to  me  works  on  political  econ- 
omy and  executive  law.  The  Representatives,  who  almost 
immediately  joined  us  and  who  arrived  in  disorder,  threw 
down  at  random  their  umbrellas  and  their  coats  streaming 
with  water  in  the  corner  of  this  peaceful  room.  No  one 
knew  exactly  what  was  happening;  every  one  brought 
forward  his  conjectures. 

The  Committee  was  hardly  seated  in  an  adjoining  little 
room  when  our  ex-colleague,  Leblond,  was  announced. 
He  brought  with  him  King  the  delegate  of  the  working- 
men's  societies.     The  deles-ate  told  us  that  the  committee 


TUE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  295 

of  the  societies  were  sitting  in  permanent  session,  and  had 
sent  him  to  us.  According  to  the  instructions  of  the 
Insurrectionary  Committee,  they  had  done  what  they  could 
to  lengthen  the  struggle  by  evading  too  decisive  en- 
counters. The  greater  part  of  the  associations  had  not  yet 
given  battle ;  nevertheless  the  plot  was  thickening.  The 
combat  had  been  severe  during  the  morning.  The  As- 
sociation of  the  Rights  of  Man  was  in  the  streets ;  the 
ex-constituent  Beslay  had  assembled,  in  the  Passage  du 
Caire,  six  or  seven  hundred  workmen  from  the  Marais,  and 
had  posted  them  in  the  streets  surrounding  the  Bank. 
New  barricades  would  probably  be  constructed  during  the 
evening,  the  forward  movement  of  the  resistance  was  being 
precipitated,  the  hand-to-hand  struggle  which  the  Com- 
mittee had  wished  to  delay  seemed  imminent,  all  was 
rushing  forward  with  a  sort  of  irresistible  impulse. 
Should  we  follow  it,  or  should  we  stop  ?  Should  we  run 
the  risk  of  bringing  matters  to  an  end  with  one  blow, 
which  should  be  the  last,  and  which  would  manifestly 
leave  one  adversary  on  the  ground — either  the  Empire  or 
the  Republic  ?  The  workmen's  societies  asked  for  our 
instructions  ;  they  still  held  in  reserve  their  three  or  four 
thousand  combatants ;  and  they  could,  according  to  the 
order  which  the  Committee  should  give  them,  either  con- 
tinue to  restrain  them  or  send  them  under  fire  without 
delay.  They  believed  themselves  certain  of  their  adher- 
ents ;  they  would  do  whatever  we  should  decide  upon, 
while  not  hiding  from  us  that  the  workmen  wished  for 
an  immediate  conflict,  and  that  it  would  be  somewhat 
hazardous  to  leave  them  time  to  become  calm. 

The  majority  of  the  members  of  the  Committee  were 
still  in  favor  of  a  certain  slackening  of  action  which 
should  tend  to  prolong  the  struggle;  and  it  wras  difficult 
to  say  that  they  were  in  the  wrong.  It  was  certain  that 
if  they  could  protract  the  situation  in  which  the  coup 
(Fetat  had  thrown  Paris  until  the  next  week,  Louis  Bon- 
aparte was  lost.  Paris  does  not  allow  herself  to  be 
trampled  upon  by  an  army  for  a  whole  week.  Neverthe- 
less, I  was  for  my  own  part  impressed  with  the  follow- 
ing : — The  workmen's  societies  offered  us  three  or  four 
thousand  combatants,  a  powerful  assistance  ; — the  work- 
man does  not  understand  strategy,  he  lives  on  enthusi- 
asm, abatements  of  ardor  discourage  him  ;  his  zeal  is  not 


296  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

extinguished,  but  it  cools : — three  thousand  to-day  would 
be  five  hundred  to-morrow.  And  then  some  seri- 
ous incident  had  just  taken  place  on  the  Boulevards. 
We  were  still  ignorant  of  what  it  actually  was  :  we  could 
not  foresee  what  consequences  it  might  bring  about ;  but 
seemed  to  me  impossible  that  the  still  unknown,  but  yet 
violent  event,  which  had  just  taken  place  would  not  mod- 
ify the  situation,  and  consequently  change  our  plan  of 
battle.  I  began  to  speak  to  this  effect.  I  stated  that  we 
ought  to  accept  the  offer  of  the  associations,  and  to  throw 
them  at  once  into  the  struggle ;  I  added  that  revolutionary 
warfare  often  necessitates  sudden  changes  of  tactics,  that 
a  general  in  the  open  country  and  before  the  enemy  oper- 
ates as  he  wishes ;  it  is  all  clear  around  him ;  he  knows 
the  effective  strength  of  his  soldiers,  the  number  of  his 
regiments ;  so  many  men,  so  many  horses,  so  many 
cannons,  he  knows  his  strength,  and  the  strength  of  his 
enemy,  he  chooses  his  hour  and  his  ground,  he  has  a  map 
under  his  eyes,  he  sees  what  he  is  doing.  He  is  sure  of 
his  reserves,  he  possesses  them,  he  keeps  them  back,  he 
utilizes  them  when  he  wishes,  he  always  has  them  by  him. 
"But  for  ourselves,"  cried  I,  "we  are  in  an  undefined  and 
inconceivable  position.  We  are  stepping  at  a  venture 
upon  unknown  risks.  Who  is  against  us  ?  We  hardly 
know.  Who  is  with  us  ?  We  are  ignorant.  ITow  many 
soldiers  ?  How  many  guns  ?  How  many  cartridges  ? 
Nothing !  but  the  darkness.  Perhaps  the  entire  people, 
perhaps  no  one.  Keep  a  reserve !  But  who  would 
answer  for  this  reserve  ?  It  is  an  army  to-day,  it  will  be 
a  handful  of  dust  to-morrow.  We  only  can  plainly  dis- 
tinguish our  duty,  as  regards  all  the  rest  it  is  black  dark- 
ness. We  are  guessing  at  everything.  We  are  ignorant 
of  everything.  We  are  fighting  a  blind  battle !  Let  us 
strike  all  the  blows  that  can  be  struck,  let  us  advance 
straight  before  us  at  random,  let  us  rush  upon  the  danger  ! 
And  let  us  have  faith,  for  as  we  are  Justice  and  the  Law, 
God  must  be  with  us  in  this  obscurity.  Let  us  accept 
this  glorious  and  gloomy  enterprise  of  Right  disarmed 
yet  still  fighting. 

The  ex-constituent  Leblond  and  the  delegate  King 
being  consulted  by  the  Committee,  seconded  my  advice. 
The  Committee  decided  that  the  societies  should  be  re- 
quested in   our   name   to   come  down  into  the  streets 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  297 

immediately,  and  to  call  out  their  forces.  "  But  we  are 
keeping  nothing  for  to-morrow,"  objected  a  member  of  the 
Committee,  "what  ally  shall  we  have  to-morrow?" 
Victory,"  said  Jules  Favre.  Carnot  and  Michel  de  Bourges 
remarked  that  it  would  be  advisable  for  those  members  of 
the  association  who  belonged  to  the  National  Guard  to 
wear  their  uniforms.     This  was  accordingly  settled. 

The  delegate  King  rose, — "  Citizen  Representatives," 
said  he,  "these  orders  will  be  immediately  transmitted, 
our  friends  are  ready,  in  a  few  hours  they  will  assemble. 
To-night  barricades  and  the  combat! " 

I  asked  him,  "  Would  it  be  useful  to  you  if  a  Represent- 
ative, a  member  of  the  Committee,  were  with  you  to- 
night with  his  sash  girded?" 

"  Doubtless,"  he  answered. 

"  Well,  then,"  resumed  I,  "  here  I  am !     Take  me." 

"We  will  all  go,"  exclaimed  Jules  Favre. 

The  delegate  observed  that  it  would  suffice  for  one  of  us 
to  be  there  at  the  moment  when  the  societies  should  make 
their  appearance,  and  that  he  could  then  notify  the  other 
members  of  the  Committee  to  come  and  join  him.  It  was 
settled  that  as  soon  as  the  places  of  meeting  and  the  ral- 
lying-points  should  be  agreed  upon,  he  would  send  some 
one  to  let  me  know,  and  to  take  me  wherever  the  societies 
might  be.  "  Before  an  hour's  time  you  shall  hear  from 
me,"  said  he  on  leaving  us. 

As  the  delegates  were  going  away  Mathieu  de  la  Drome 
arrived.  On  coming  in  he  halted  on  the  threshold  of  the 
door,  he  was  pale,  he  cried  out  to  us,  "  You  are  no  longer 
in  Paris,  you  are  no  longer  under  the  Republic ;  you  are 
in  Naples  and  under  King  Bomba." 

lie  had  come  from  the  Boulevards. 

Later  on  I  again  saw  Mathieu  de  la  Drome.  I  said  to 
him,  "  Worse  than  Bomba, — Satan." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    VERIFICATION     OP   MORAL   LAWS. 

The  carnage  of  the  Boulevard  Montmartre  constitutes 
the  originality  of  the  coup  <7'-t<tt.  Without  this  butchery 
the  2d  of  December  would  only  be  an  18th  Brumaire.     Ow- 


298  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

ing  to  the  massacre  Louis  Bonaparte  escapes  the  charge 
of  plagiarism.    . 

Up  to  that  time  he  had  only  heen  an  imitator.  The 
little  hat  at  Boulogne,  the  gray  overcoat,  the  tame  eagle 
appeared  grotesque.  What  did  this  parody  mean  ?  people 
asked.  He  made  them  laugh;  suddenly  he  made  them 
tremble. 

He  who  becomes  detestable  ceases  to  be  ridiculous. 

Louis  Bonaparte  was  more  than  detestable,  he  was 
execrable. 

He  envied  the  hugeness  of  great  crimes  ;  he  wished  to 
equal  the  worst.  This  striving  after  the  horrible  has 
given  him  a  special  place  to  himself  in  the  menagerie  of 
tyrants.  Petty  rascality  trying  to  emulate  deep  villany, 
a  little  Nero  swelling  himself  to  a  huge  Lacenaire  ;  such 
is  this  phenomenon.  Art  for  art,  assassination  for  assas- 
sination. 

Louis  Bonaparte  has  created  a  special  genus. 

It  was  in  this  manner  that  Louis  Bonaparte  made  his 
entry  into  the  Unexpected.     This  revealed  him. 

Certain  brains  are  abysses.  Manifestly  for  a  long  time 
past  Bonaparte  had  harbored  the  design  of  assassinating 
in  order  to  reign.  Premeditation  haunts  criminals,  and 
it  is  in  this  manner  that  treason  begins.  The  crime  is  a 
long  time  present  in  them,  but  shapeless  and  shadowy, 
they  are  scarcely  conscious  of  it ;  souls  only  blacken 
gradually.  Such  abominable  deeds  are  not  invented  in  a 
moment ;  they  do  not  attain  perfection  at  once  and  at 
a  single  bound ;  they  increase  and  ripen,  shapeless  and 
indecisive,  and  the  centre  of  the  ideas  in  which  they  exist 
keeps  them  living,  ready  for  the  appointed  day,  and 
vaguely  terrible.  This  design,  the  massacre  for  a  throne, 
we  feel  sure,  existed  for  a  long  time  in  Louis  Bonaparte's 
mind.  It  was  classed  among  the  possible  events  of  this 
soul.  It  darted  hither  and  thither  like  a  larva  in  an 
aquarium,  mingled  with  shadows,  with  doubts,  with  de- 
sires, with  expedients,  with  dreams  of  one  knows  not 
what  Caesarian  socialism,  like  a  Hydra  dimly  visible  in  a 
transparency  of  chaos.  Hardly  was  he  aware  that  he  was 
fostering  this  hideous  idea.  When  he  needed  it,  he  found 
it,  armed  and  ready  to  serve  him.  His  unfathomable  brain 
had  darkly  nourished  it.  Abysses  are  the  nurseries  of 
monsters. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  299 

Up  to  this  formidable  day  of  the  4th  December,  Louis 
Bonaparte  did  not  perhaps  quite  know  himself.  Those 
who  studied  this  curious  Imperial  animal  did  not  believe 
him  capable  of  such  pure  and  simple  ferocity.  They  saw 
in  him  an  indescribable  mongrel,  applying  the  talents  of 
a  swindler  to  the  dreams  of  an  Empire,  who,  even  when 
crowned,  would  be  a  thief,  who  would  say  of  a  parricide, 
What  roguery !  Incapable  of  gaining  a  footing  on  any 
height,  even  of  infamy,  always  remaining  half-way  uphill, 
a  little  above  petty  rascals,  a  little  below  great  malefac- 
tors. They  believed  him  clever  at  effecting  all  that  is 
done  in  gambling-hells  and  in  robbers'  caves,  but  with 
this  transposition,  that  he  would  cheat  in  the  caves,  and 
that  he  would  assassinate  in  the  gambling-hells. 

The  massacre  of  the  Boulevards  suddenly  unveiled  this 
spirit.  They  saw  it  such  as  it  really  was  :  the  ridiculous 
nicknames  "  Big-beak,"  "  Badinguet,"  vanished  ;  they 
saw  the  bandit,  they  saw  the  true  contraffatto  hidden 
under  the  false  Bonaparte. 

There  was  a  shudder  !  It  was  this  then  which  this  man 
held  in  reserve ! 

Apologies  have  been  attempted,  they  could  but  fail.  It 
is  easy  to  praise  Bonaparte,  for  people  have  praised  Dupin  ; 
but  it  is  an  exceedingly  complicated  operation  to  cleanse 
him.  What  is  to  be  done  with  the  4th  of  December? 
How  will  that  difficulty  be  surmounted?  It  is  far 
more  troublesome  to  justify  than  to  glorify ;  the  sponge 
works  with  greater  difficulty  than  the  censer ;  the  pane- 
gyrists of  the  coup  cVetat  have  lost  their  labor.  Madame 
Sand  herself,  although  a  woman  of  lofty  intellect,  has 
failed  miserably  in  her  attempt  to  rehabilitate  Bonaparte, 
for  the  simple  reason  that  whatever  one  may  do,  the  death- 
roll  reappears  through  this  whitewashing. 

No!  no!  no  extenuation  whatever  is  possible.  Unfort- 
unate Bonaparte.  The  blood  is  drawn.  It  must  be 
drunk. 

The  deed  of  the  4th  of  December  is  the  most  colossal 
dagger-thrust  that  a  brigand  let  loose  upon  civilization 
has  ever  effected,  we  will  not  say  upon  a  people,  but  upon 
the  entire  human  race.  The  stroke  was  most  monstrous, 
and  struck  Paris  to  the  ground.  Paris  on  the  ground  is 
Conscience,  is  Reason,  is  all  human  liberty  on  the  ground; 
it  is  the  progress  of  centuries  lying  on  the  pavement ;  it 


300  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

is  the  torch  of  Justice,  of  Truth,  and  of  Life  reversed  and 
extinguished.  This  is  what  Louis  Bonaparte  effected  the 
day  when  he  effected  this. 

The  success  of  the  wretch  was  complete.  The  2d  of 
December  was  lost ;  the  4th  of  December  saved  the  2d  of 
December.  It  was  something  like  Erostratus  saving 
Judas.  Paris  understood  that  all  had  not  yet  been  told 
as  regards  deeds  of  horror,  and  that  beneath  the  oppressor 
there  was  the  garbage-picker.  It  was  the  case  of  a  swind- 
ler stealing  Caesar's  mantle.  This  man  was  little,  it  is 
true,  but  terrifying.  Paris  consented  to  this  terror,  re- 
nounced the  right  to  have  the  last  word,  went  to  bed  and 
simulated  death.  Suffocation  had  its  share  in  the  matter. 
This  crime  resembled,  too,  no  previous  achievements. 
Even  after  centuries  have  passed,  and  though  he  should 
be  an  iEschylus  or  a  Tacitus,  any  one  raising  the  cover 
would  smell  the  stench.  Paris  resigned  herself,  Paris 
abdicated,  Paris  surrendered;  the  novelty  of  the  treason 
proved  its  chief  strength ;  Paris  almost  ceased  to  be 
Paris ;  on  the  next  day  the  chattering  of  this  terrified 
Titan's  teeth  could  be  heard  in  the  shadows. 

Let  us  lay  a  stress  upon  this,  for  we  must  verify  the 
laws  of  morality.  Louis  Bonaparte  remained,  even  after 
the  4th  of  December,  Napoleon  the  Little.  This  enormity 
still  left  him  a  dwarf.  The  size  of  the  crime  does  not 
change  the  stature  of  the  criminal,  and  the  pettiness  of  the 
assassin  withstands  the  immensity  of  the  assassination. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  Pigmy  had  the  better  of  the 
Colossus.  This  avowal,  humiliating  as  it  is,  cannot  be 
evaded. 

Such  are  the  blushes  to  which  History,  that  greatly  dis- 
honored one,  is  condemned. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  301 


THE  FOURTH  DAY. 

THE   VICTORY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

WHAT  HAPPENED  DURING  THE  NIGHT — THE  RUE  TIQUETONNE. 

Just  as  Mathieu  de  la  Drome  had  said,  "  You  are  under 
King  Bomba,"  Charles  Garabon  entered.  He  sank  down 
upon  a  chair  and  muttered,  "  It  is  horrible."  Bancel 
followed  him.  "We  have  come  from  it,"  said  Bancel. 
Gambon  had  been  able  to  shelter  himself  in  the  recess 
of  a  doorway.  In  front  of  Barbedienne's  alone  he  had 
counted  thirty-seven  corpses.  What  was  the  meaning  of 
it  all  ?  To  what  purpose  was  this  monstrous  promiscuous 
murder?  No  one  could  understand  it.  The  Massacre 
was  a  riddle. 

We  were  in  the  Sphinx's  Grotto. 

Labrousse  came  in.  It  was  urgently  necessary  that  we 
should  leave  Dupont  White's  house.  It  was  on  the  point 
of  being  surrounded.  For  some  moments  the  Rue  Mont- 
habor,  ordinarily  so  deserted,  was  becoming  thronged 
with  suspicious  figures.  Men  seemed  to  be  attentively 
watching  number  Eleven.  Some  of  these  men,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  acting  in  concert,  belonged  to  the  ex-"  Club 
of  Clubs,"  which  owing  to  the  manoeuvres  of  the  Re- 
actionists, exhaled  a  vague  odor  of  the  police.  It  was 
necessary  that  we  should  disperse.  Labrousse  said  to  us, 
"  I  have  just  seen  Longe-pied  roving  about." 

We  separated.  We  went  away  one  by  one,  and  each 
in  his  own  direction.  We  did  not  know  where  we  should 
meet  again,  or  whether  we  should  meet  again.  What 
was  going  to  happen  and  what  was  about  to  become  of 
us  all  ?  No  one  knew.  We  were  filled  with  a  terrible 
dread. 


302  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

I  turned  up  towards  the  Boulevards,  anxious  to  see 
what  was  taking  place. 

What  was  taking  place  I  have  just  related. 

Ban  eel  and  Versigny  had  rejoined  me. 

As  I  left  the  Boulevards,  mingled  with  the  whirl  of  the 
terrified  crowd,  not  knowing  where  I  was  going,  return- 
ing towards  the  centre  of  Paris,  a  voice  suddenly  whis- 
pered in  my  ear,  "  There  is  something  over  there  which 
you  ought  to  see."  I  recognized  the  voice.  It  was  the 
voice  of  E.  P. 

E.  P.  is  a  dramatic  author,  a  man  of  talent,  for  whom 
under  Louis  Philippe  I  had  procured  exemption  from 
military  service.  I  had  not  seen  him  for  four  or  five  years. 
I  met  him  again  in  this  tumult.  He  spoke  to  me  as  though 
we  had  seen  each  other  yesterday.  Such  are  these  times 
of  bewilderment.  There  is  no  time  to  greet  each  other 
"  according  to  the  rules  of  society."  One  speaks  as  though 
all  were  in  full  flight. 

"  Ah !  it  is  you !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  What  do  you  want 
with  me?" 

He  answered  me,  "  I  live  in  a  house  over  there." 

And  he  added, — 

"Come." 

He  drew  me  into  a  dark  street.  We  could  hear  explo- 
sions. At  the  bottom  of  the  street  could  be  seen  the 
ruins  of  a  barricade.  Versigny  and  Bancel,  as  I  have 
just  said,  were  with  me.     E.  P.  turned  to  them. 

"  These  gentlemen  can  come,"  said  he. 

I  asked  him, — 

«  What  street  is  this  ?  " 

"  The  Kue  Tiquetonne." 

We  followed  him. 

I  have  elsewhere  told  this  tragical  event* 

E.  P.  stopped  before  a  tall  and  gloomy  house.  He 
pushed  open  a  street-door  which  was  not  shut,  then 
another  door  and  we  entered  into  a  parlor  perfectly  quiet 
and  lighted  by  a  lamp. 

This  room  appeared  to  adjoin  a  shop.  At  the  end  could 
be  distinguished  two  beds  side  by  side,  one  large  and  one 
small.  Above  the  little  bed  hung  a  woman's  portrait,  and 
above  the  portrait  a  branch  of  holy  box-tree. 

*  "  Les  Chatiments." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  303 

The  lamp  was  placed  over  the  fireplace,  where  a  little 
fire  was  burning. 

Near  the  lamp  upon  a  chair  there  was  an  old  woman 
leaning  forward,  stooping  down,  folded  in  two  as  though 
broken,  over  something  which  was  in  the  shadow,  and 
which  she  held  in  her  arms.  I  drew  near.  That  which 
she  held  in  her  arms  was  a  dead  child. 

The  poor  woman  was  silently  sobbing. 

E.  P.,  who  belonged  to  the  house,  touched  her  on  the 
shoulder,  and  said, — 

"Let  us  see  it." 

The  old  woman  raised  her  liead,  and  I  saw  on  her  knees 
a  little  boy,  pale,  half-undressed,  pretty,  with  two  red 
holes  in  his  forehead. 

The  old  woman  stared  at  me,  but  she  evidently  did  not 
see  me,  she  muttered,  speaking  to  herself, — 

"  And  to  think  that  he  called  me  '  Granny  '  this  morn- 
ing ! " 

E.  P.  took  the  child's  hand,  the  hand  fell  back  again. 

"  Seven  years  old,"  he  said  to  me. 

A  basin  was  on  the  ground.  They  had  washed  the 
child's  face;  two  tiny  streams  of  blood  trickled  from  the 
two  holes. 

At  the  end  of  the  room,  near  a  half-opened  clothes-press, 
in  which  could  be  seen  some  linen,  stood  a  woman  of  some 
forty  years,  grave,  poor,  clean,  fairly  good-looking. 

"A  neighbor,"  E.  P.  said  tome. 

Tie  explained  to  me  that  a  doctor  lived  in  the  house, 
that  the  doctor  had  come  down  and  had  said,  "  There  is 
nothing  to  be  done."  The  child  had  been  hit  by  two  balls 
in  the  head  while  crossing  the  street  to  "get  out  of  the 
way."  They  had  brought  him  back  to  his  grandmother, 
who  "  had  no  one  left  but  him." 

The  portrait  of  the  dead  mother  hung  above  the  little 
bed. 

The  child  had  his  eyes  half  open,  and  that  inexpressible 
gaze  of  the  dead,  where  the  perception  of  the  real  is  re- 
placed by  the  vision  of  the  infinite.  The  grandmother 
spoke  through  her  sobs  by  snatches  :  "  God  !  is  it  possible? 
Who  would  have  thought  it? — What  brigands!  " 

She  cried  out, — 

"  Is  this  then  the  Government?" 

"  Yes,"  I  said  to  her. 


304  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

We  finished  undressing  the  child.  He  had  a  top  in  his 
pocket.  His  head  rolled  from  one  shoulder  to  the  other ; 
I  held  him  and  I  kissed  him  on  the  brow  ;  Versigny  and 
Bancel  took  off  his  stockings.  The  grandmother  suddenly- 
started  up. 

"  Do  not  hurt  him  !  "  she  cried. 

She  took  the  two  little  white  and  frozen  feet  in  her  old 
hands,  trying  to  warm  them. 

When  the  poor  little  body  was  naked,  they  began  to  lay 
it  out.     They  took  a  sheet  from  the  clothes-press. 

Then  the  grandmother  burst  into  bitter  lamentation. 

She  cried  out, — 

"  They  shall  give  him  back  to  me  !  " 

She  drew  herself  up  and  gazed  at  us,  and  began  to  pour- 
forth  incoherent  utterances,  in  which  were  mingled  Bona- 
parte, and  God,  and  her  little  one,  and  the  school  to  which 
he  went,  and  her  daughter  whom  she  had  lost,  and  even 
reproaches  to  us.  She  was  livid,  haggard,  as  though  see- 
ing a  vision  before  her,  and  was  more  of  a  phantom  than 
the  dead  child. 

Then  she  again  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  pieced 
her  folded  arms  on  her  child,  and  once  more  began  to  sob. 

The  woman  who  was  there  came  up  to  me,  and  without 
saying  a  word,  wiped  my  mouth  with  a  handkerchief.  I 
had  blood  upon  my  lips. 

What  could  be  done?  Alas!  We  went  out  over- 
whelmed. 

It  was  quite  dark.    Bancel  and  Versigny  left  me. 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHAT    HAPPENED    DURING    THE    NIGHT THE    MARKET 

QUARTER. 

I  came  back  to  my  lodging,  19,  Rue  Richelieu. 

The  massacre  seemed  to  be  at  an  end ;  the  fusilades 
were  heard  no  longer.  As  I  was  about  to  knock  at  the 
door  I  hesitated  for  a  moment;  a  man  was  there  who 
seemed  to  be  waiting.  I  went  straight  up  to  this  man, 
and  T  said  to  him, — 

"  You  seem  to  be  waiting  for  somebody?" 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  305 

He  answered, — 

"  Yes." 

"For  whom?" 

"  For  you." 

And  he  added,  lowering  his  voice,  "  I  have  come  to 
speak  to  you." 

I  looked  at  this  man.  A  street-lamp  shone  on  him. 
He  did  not  avoid  the  light. 

He  was  a  young  man  with  a  fair  heard,  wearing  a  blue 
blouse,  and  who  had  the  gentle  bearing  of  a  thinker  and 
the  robust  hands  of  a  workman. 

"  Who  are  you?"  I  asked  him. 

He  answered, — "  I  belong  to  the  Society  of  the  Last- 
makers.     I  know  you  very  well,  Citizen  Victor  Hugo." 

"  From  whom  do  you  come  ?  "     I  resumed. 

He  answered  still  in  a  whisper, — 

"  From  Citizen  King." 

"  Very  good,"  said  I. 

He  then  told  me  his  name.  As  he  has  survived  the 
events  of  the  night  of  the  4th,  and  as  he  since  escaped 
the  denunciations,  it  can  be  understood  that  we  will  not 
mention  his  name  here,  and  that  we  shall  confine  our- 
selves to  terming  him  throughout  the  course  of  this  story 
by  his  trade,  calling  him  the  "last-maker."  * 

"What  do  you  want  to  say  to  me?"  I  asked  him. 

He  explained  that  matters  were  not  hopeless,  that  he 
and  his  friends  meant  to  continue  the  resistance,  that 
the  meeting-places  of  the  Societies  had  not  yet  been 
settled,  but  that  they  would  be  during  the  evening,  that 
my  presence  was  desired,  and  that  if  I  would  be  under 
the  Colbert  Arcade  at  nine  o'clock,  either  himself  or 
another  of  their  men  would  be  there,  and  would  serve  me 
as  guide.  We  decided  that  in  order  to  make  himself 
known,  the  messenger,  when  accosting  me,  should  give 
the  password,  "What  is  Joseph  doing?" 

T  do  not  know  whether  lie  thought  lie  noticed  any  doubt 
or  mistrust  on  my  part.  He  suddenly  interrupted  him- 
self, and  said, — 

"  After  all,  you  are  not  bound  to  believe  me.     One  does 

*  We  may  now.  after  twenty-six  years,  give  tlie  name  of  this  loyal 
ami  courageous  men.  His  name  was  (Jaloy  (ami  not  (Jalloix,  as  cer- 
tain historians  of  the  coitp  d'etat  have  printed  it  while  recounting, 
after  their  fashion,  the  incidents  which  we  are  about  to  read). 

20 


306  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

not  think  of  everything :  I  ought  to  have  asked  them  to 
give  me  a  word  in  writing.  At  a  time  like  this  one  dis- 
trusts everybody." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  I  said  to  him,  "  one  trusts  every- 
body.    I  will  be  in  the  Colbert  Arcade  at  nine  o'clock." 

And  I  left  him. 

I  re-entered  my  asylum.  I  was  tired,  I  was  hungry,  I 
had  recourse  to  Charamaule's  chocolate  and  to  a  small 
piece  of  bread  which  I  had  still  left.  I  sank  down  into 
an  arm-chair,  I  ate  and  I  slept.  Some  slumbers  are  gloomy. 
I  had  one  of  those  slumbers,  full  of  spectres ;  I  again 
saw  the  dead  child  and  the  two  red  holes  in  his  forehead, 
these  formed  two  mouths  :  one  said  "  Morny,"  and  the 
other  "  Saint- Arnaud."  History  is  not  made,  however, 
to  recount  dreams.  I  will  abridge.  Suddenly  I  awoke. 
I  started  :  "  If  only  it  is  not  past  nine  o'clock  !  "  I  had 
forgotten  to  wind  up  my  watch.  It  had  stopped.  I  went 
out  hastily.  The  street  was  lonely,  the  shops  were  shut. 
In  the  Place  Louvos  I  heard  the  hour  striking  (probably 
from  Saint  Roch);  I  listened.  I  counted  nine  strokes. 
In  a  few  moments  I  was  under  the  Colbert  Arcade.  I 
peered  into  the  darkness.     No  one  was  under  the  Arcade. 

I  felt  that  it  was  impossible  to  remain  there,  and  have 
the  appearance  of  waiting  about ;  near  the  Colbert  Arcade 
there  is  a  police-station,  and  the  patrols  were  passing 
every  moment.  I  plunged  into  the  street.  I  found  no 
one  there.  I  went  as  far  as  the  Rue  Vivienne.  At  the 
corner  of  the  Rue  Vivienne  a  man  was  stopping  before  a 
placard  and  was  trying  to  deface  it  or  to  tear  it  down.  I 
drew  near  this  man,  who  probably  took  me  for  a  police 
agent,  and  who  fled  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  I  retraced 
my  steps.  Near  the  Colbert  Arcade,  and  just  as  1 
reached  the  point  in  the  street  where  they  post  the 
theatrical  bills,  a  workman  passed  me,  and  said  quickly, 
"  What  is  Joseph  doing  ?  " 

I  recognized  the  last-maker. 

"  Come,"  he  said  to  me. 

We  set  out  without  speaking  and  without  appearing  to 
know  each  other,  he  walking  some  steps  before  me. 

We  first  went  to  two  addresses,  which  I  cannot  men- 
tion here  without  pointing  out  victims  for  the  proscrip- 
tion. In  these  two  houses  we  got  no  news;  no  one  had 
come  there  on  the  part  of  the  societies. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  307 

"Let  us  go  to  the  third  place,"  said  the  last-maker,  and 
he  explained  to  me  that  they  had  settled  among  them 
three  successive  meeting-places,  in  case  of  need,  so  as  to 
be  always  sure  of  finding  each  other  if,  perchance,  the 
police  discovered  the  first  or  even  the  second  meeting- 
place,  a  precaution  which  for  our  part  we  adopted  as 
much  as  possible  with  regard  to  our  meetings  of  the  Left 
and  of  the  Committee. 

We  had  reached  the  market  quarter.  Fighting  had 
been  going  on  there  throughout  the  day.  There  were  no 
longer  any  gas-lamps  in  the  streets.  We  stopped  from 
time  to  time,  and  listened  so  as  not  to  run  headlong  into 
the  arms  of  a  patrol.  We  got  over  a  paling  of  planks 
almost  completely  destroyed,  and  of  which  barricades  had 
probably  been  made,  and  we  crossed  the  extensive  area  of 
half-demolished  houses  which  at  that  epoch  encumbered 
the  lower  portions  of  the  Rue  Montmartre  and  Rue  Mon- 
torgueil.  On  the  peaks  of  the  high  dismantled  gables 
could  be  seen  a  flickering  red  glow,  doubtless  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  bivouac-fires  of  the  soldiers  encamped  in  the 
markets  and  in  the  neighborhood  of  Saint  Eustache. 
This  reflection  lighted  our  way.  The  last-maker,  how- 
ever, narrowly  escaped  falling  into  a  deep  hole,  which  was 
no  less  than  the  cellar  of  a  demolished  house.  On  coming 
out  of  this  region,  covered  with  ruins,  amongst  which 
here  and  there  a  few  trees  might  be  perceived,  the  remains 
of  gardens  which  had  now  disappeared,  we  entered  into 
narrow,  winding,  and  completely  dark  streets,  where  it 
was  impossible  to  recognize  one's  whereabouts.  Never- 
theless the  last-maker  walked  on  as  much  at  his  ease  as 
in  broad  daylight,  and  like  a  man  who  is  going  straight 
to  his  destination.  Once  he  turned  round  to  me,  and  said 
to  me, — 

"  The  whole  of  this  quarter  is  barricaded ;  and  if,  as  I 
hope,  our  friends  come  down,  I  will  answer  that  they  will 
hold  it  for  a  long  time." 

Suddenly  he  stopped.  "  Here  is  one,"  said  he.  In 
truth,  seven  or  eight  paces  before  us  was  a  barricade  en- 
tirely constructed  of  paving-stones,  not  exceeding  a  man's 
height,  and  which  in  the  darkness  appeared  like  a  ruined 
wall.  A  narrow  passage  had  been  formed  at  one  end. 
We  passed  through  it.  There  was  no  one  behind  the 
barricade. 


308  THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  There  has  already  been  righting  here  a  short  time  ago," 
said  the  last-maker  in  a  low  voice  ;  and  he  added,  after  a 
pause,  "  We  are  getting  near." 

The  unpaving  had  left  holes,  of  which  we  had  to  be 
careful.  We  strode,  and  sometimes  jumped,  from  paving- 
stone  to  paving-stone.  Notwithstanding  the  intense  dark- 
ness, there  yet  hovered  about  an  indefinable  glimmer ;  on 
our  way  we  noticed  before  us  on  the  ground,  close  to  the 
foot-pavement,  something  which  looked  like  a  stretched- 
out  form.  "The  devil!"  muttered  my  guide,  "we  were 
just  going  to  walk  upon  it."  He  took  a  little  wax  match 
from  his  pocket  and  struck  it  on  his  sleeve ;  the  flame 
flashed  out.  The  light  fell  upon  a  pallid  face,  which 
looked  at  us  with  fixed  eyes.  It  was  a  corpse  lying 
there ;  it  was  an  old  man.  The  last-maker  rapidly  waved 
the  match  from  his  head  to  his  feet.  The  dead  man  was 
almost  in  the  attitude  of  a  crucified  man ;  his  two  arms 
were  stretched  out ;  his  white  hair,  red  at  the  ends,  was 
soaking  in  the  mud  ;  a  pool  of  blood  was  beneath  him  ;  a 
large  blackish  patch  on  his  waistcoat  marked  the  place 
where  the  ball  had  pierced  his  breast ;  one  of  his  braces 
was  undone ;  he  had  thick  laced  boots  on  his  feet.  The 
last-maker  lifted  up  one  of  his  arms,  and  said,  "  His  collar- 
bone is  broken."  The  movement  shook  the  head,  and  the 
open  mouth  turned  towards  us  as  though  about  to  speak 
to  us.  I  gazed  at  this  vision ;  I  almost  listened.  Suddenly 
it  disappeared. 

This  face  re-entered  the  gloom  ;  the  match  had  just 
gone  out. 

We  went  away  in  silence.  After  walking  about  twenty 
paces,  the  last-maker,  as  though  talking  to  himself,  said 
in  a  whisper,  "Don't  know  him." 

We  still  pushed  forward.  From  the  cellars  to  the  roofs, 
from  the  ground-floors  to  the  garrets,  there  was  not 
a  light  in  the  house.  We  appeared  to  be  groping  in  an 
immense  tomb. 

A  man's  voice,  firm  and  sonorous,  suddenly  issued  out 
of  the  darkness,  and  shouted  to  us,  "  Who  goes  there?" 

"  Ah,  there  they  are ! "  said  the  last-maker,  and  he 
uttered  a  peculiar  whistle. 

"  Come  on,"  resumed  the  voice. 

It  was  another  barricade.  This  one,  a  little  higher 
than  the  first,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  distance  of  about 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  309 

a  hundred  paces,  was,  as  far  as  could  be  seen,  constructed 
of  barrels  filled  with  paving-stones.  On  the  top  could  be 
seen  the  wheels  of  a  truck  entangled  between  the  barrels ; 
planks  and  beams  were  intermingled.  A  passage  had 
been  contrived  still  narrower  than  the  gangway  of  the 
other  barricade. 

"  Citizens,"  said  the  last-maker,  as  he  went  into  the 
barricade,  "  how  many  of  you  are  there  here  ?  " 

The  voice  which  had  shouted,  "Who  goes  there?" 
answered, — 

"  There  are  two  of  us." 

«  Is  that  all  ?  " 

"  That  is  all." 

They  were  in  truth  two, — two  men  who  alone  during 
that  night,  in  that  solitary  street,  behind  that  heap  of 
paving-stones,  awaited  the  onslaught  of  a  regiment. 

Both  wore  blouses ;  they  were  two  workmen ;  with  a 
few  cartridges  in  their  pockets,  and  a  musket  upon  each 
of  their  shoulders. 

"  So  then,"  resumed  the  last-maker,  in  an  impatient  tone, 
"  our  friends  have  not  yet  come !  " 

"  Well,  then,"  I  said  to  him,  "  let  us  wait  for  them." 

The  last-maker  spoke  for  a  short  time  in  a  low  tone,  and 
probably  told  my  name  to  one  of  the  two  defenders  of  the 
barricade,  who  came  up  to  me  and  saluted  me.  "Citizen 
Representative,"  said  he,  "  it  will  be  very  warm  here 
shortly." 

"In  the  meantime,"  answered  I  laughingly,  "it  is  cold." 

It  was  very  cold,  in  truth.  The  street  which  was  com- 
pletely unpaved  behind  the  barricade,  was  nothing  better 
than  a  sewer,  ankle  deep  in  water. 

"  I  say  that  it  will  be  warm,"  resumed  the  workman, 
"and  that  you  would  do  well  to  go  farther  off." 

The  last-maker  put  his  hand  on  his  shoulder :  "  Comrade, 
it  is  necessary  that  we  should  remain  here.  The  meeting- 
place  is  close  by,  in  the  ambulance." 

"All  the  same,"  resumed  the  other  workman,  who  was 
very  short,  and  who  stood  up  on  a  paving-stone;  "the 
Citizen  Representative  would  do  well  to  go  farther  off." 

"T  can  very  well  be  where  you  are,"  said  I  to  him. 

The  street  was  quite  dark,  nothing  could  be  seen  of  the 
sky.  Inside  the  barricade  on  the  left,  on  the  side  where 
the  passage  was,   could  be  seen  a  high  paling  of  badly 


310  THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 

joined  planks,  through  which  shone  in  places  a  feeble 
light.  Above  the  paling  rose  out,  lost  in  the  darkness,  a 
house  of  six  or  seven  storys;  the  ground  floor,  which  was 
being  repaired,  and  which  was  under-pinned,  being  closed 
in  by  these  planks.  A  ray  of  light  issuing  from  between 
the  planks  fell  on  the  opposite  wall,  and  lighted  up  an  old 
torn  placard,  on  which  could  be  read,  "  Asnieres.  Water 
tournaments.     Grand  ball." 

"  Have  you  another  gun  ?  "  asked  the  last-maker  of  the 
taller  of  the  two  workmen. 

"  If  we  had  three  guns  we  should  be  three  men," 
answered  the  workman. 

The  little  one  added,  "  Do  you  think  that  the  good  will 
is  wanting?  There  are  plenty  of  musicians,  but  there 
are  no  clarionets." 

By  the  side  of  the  wooden  paling  could  be  seen  a  little, 
narrow  and  low  door,  which  looked  more  like  the  door  of 
a  stall  than  the  door  of  a  shop.  The  shop  to  which  this 
door  belonged  was  hermetically  sealed.  The  door  seemed 
to  be  equally  closed.  The  last-maker  went  up  to  it  and 
pushed  it  gently.     It  was  open. 

"  Let  us  go  in,"  he  said, 

I  went  in  first,  he  followed  me,  and  shut  the  door  behind 
me.  We  were  in  a  room  on  the  ground  floor.  At  the  end, 
on  the  left,  a  half-opened  door  emitted  the  reflection  of  a 
light.  The  room  was  only  lighted  by  this  reflection.  A 
counter  and  a  species  of  stove,  painted  in  black  and  white, 
could  be  dimly  distinguished. 

A  short,  half-suffocated,  intermittent  gurgling  could  be 
heard,  which  seemed  to  come  from  an  adjoining  room  on 
the  same  side  as  the  light.  The  last-maker  walked  quickly 
to  the  half-opened  door.  I  crossed  the  room  after  him, 
and  we  found  ourselves  in  a  sort  of  vast  shed,  lighted  by 
one  candle.  We  were  on  the  other  side  of  the  plank  paling. 
There  was  only  the  plank  paling  between  ourselves  and 
the  barricade. 

This  species  of  shed  was  the  ground  floor  in  course  of 
demolition.  Iron  columns,  painted  red,  and  fixed  into 
stone  sockets  at  short  distances  apart,  supported  the  joists 
of  the  ceiling;  facing  the  street,  a  huge  framework  stand- 
ing erect,  and  denoting  the  centre  of  the  surrounding 
paling,  supported  the  great  cross-beam  of  the  first  story, 
that  is  to  say,  supported  the  whole  house.    In  a  corner 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  '  311 

were  lying  some  masons'  tools,  a  heap  of  rubbish,  and  a 
large  double  ladder.  A  few  straw-bottomed  chairs  were 
scattered  here  and  there.  The  damp  ground  served  for 
the  flooring.  By  the  side  of  a  table,  on  which  stood  a 
candle  in  the  midst  of  medicine  bottles,  an  old  woman 
and  a  young  girl  of  about  eight  years  old — the  woman 
seated,  the  child  squatting  before  a  great  basketful  of  old 
linen — were  making  lint.  The  end  of  the  room,  which 
was  lost  in  the  darkness,  was  carpeted  with  a  litter  of 
straw,  on  which  three  mattresses  had  been  thrown.  The 
gurgling  noise  came  from  there. 

"  It  is  the  ambulance,"  said  the  last-maker. 

The  old  woman  turned  her  head,  and  seeing  us,  shud- 
dered convulsively,  and  then,  reassured  probably  by  the 
blouse  of  the  last-maker,  she  got  up  and  came  towards  us. 

The  last-maker  whispered  a  few  words  in  her  ear.  She 
answered,  "  I  have  seen  nobody." 

Then  she  added,  "  But  what  makes  me  uneasy  is  that 
my  husband  has  not  yet  come  back.  They  have  done 
nothing  but  Are  muskets  the  whole  evening." 

Two  men  were  lying  on  two  of  the  mattresses  at  the 
end  of  the  room.  A  third  mattress  was  unoccupied  and 
was  waiting. 

The  wounded  man  nearest  to  me  had  received  a  musket 
ball  in  his  stomach.  lie  it  was  who  was  gurgling.  The 
old  woman  came  towards  the  mattress  with  a  candle,  and 
whispered  to  us,  showing  us  her  fist,  "  If  you  could  only 
see  the  hole  that  that  has  made  !  We  have  stuffed  lint  as 
large  as  this  into  his  stomach." 

She  resumed,  "lie  is  not  above  twenty-five  years  old. 
lie  will  be  dead  to-morrow  morning." 

The  other  was  still  younger.  lie  was  hardly  eighteen, 
"  lie  has  a  handsome  black  overcoat,"  said  the  woman. 
'•He  is  most  likely  a  student."  The  young  man  had 
the  whole  of  the  lower  part  of  his  face  swathed  in  blood- 
stained linen.  She  explained  to  us  that  he  had  received 
a  ball  in  the  mouth,  which  had  broken  his  jaw.  He  was 
in  a  high  fever,  and  gazed  at  us  with  lustrous  eyes. 
From  time  to  time  he  stretched  his  right  arm  towards 
a  basin  full  of  water  in  which  a  sponge  was  soaking; 
he  took  the  sponge,  carried  it  to  his  face,  and  himself 
moistened  his  bandages. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  his  gaze  fastened  upon  me  in  a 


312  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

singular  manner.  I  went  up  to  him,  I  stooped  down,  and 
I  gave  him  my  hand,  which  he  took  in  his  own.  "  Do  you 
know  me  ? "  I  asked  him.  He  answered  "  Yes,"  by  a 
pressure  of  the  hand  which  went  to  my  heart. 

The  last-maker  said  to  me,  "  Wait  a  minute  for  me 
here,  I  shall  be  back  directly ;  I  want  to  see  in  this  neigh- 
borhood if  there  is  any  means  of  getting  a  gun." 

He  added, — 

"  Would  you  like  one  for  yourself  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  I.  "  I  shall  remain  here  without  a  gun. 
I  only  take  a  half  share  in  the  civil  war ;  I  am  willing  to 
die,  I  am  not  willing  to  kill." 

I  asked  him  if  he  thought  his  friends  were  going  to 
come.  He  declared  that  he  could  not  understand  it,  that 
the  men  from  the  societies  ought  to  have  arrived  already, 
that  instead  of  two  men  in  the  barricade  there  should  be 
twenty,  that  instead  of  two  barricades  in  the  street  there 
should  have  been  ten,  and  that  something  must  have  hap- 
pened ;  he  added, — 

"  However,  I  will  go  and  see ;  promise  to  wait  for  me 
here." 

"  I  promise  you,"  I  answered,  "  I  will  wait  all  night  if 
necessary." 

He  left  me. 

The  old  woman  had  reseated  herself  near  the  little  girl, 
who  did  not  seem  to  understand  much  of  what  was  pass- 
ing round  her,  and  who  from  time  to  time  raised  great  calm 
eyes  towards  me.  Both  were  poorly  clad,  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  the  child  had  stockingless  feet.  "  My  man  has  not 
yet  come  back,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  my  poor  man 
has  not  yet  come  back.  I  hope  nothing  has  happened  to 
him ! "  With  many  heart-rending  "  My  God's,"  and  all  the 
while  quickly  picking  her  lint,  she  wept.  I  could  not 
help  thinking  with  anguish  of  the  old  man  Ave  had  seen 
stretched  on  the  pavement  at  a  few  paces  distant. 

A  newspaper  was  lying  on  the  table.     I  took  it  up,  and 

I  unfolded  it.     It  was  the  P ,  the  rest  of  the  title  had 

been  torn  off.  A  blood-stained  hand  was  plainly  im- 
printed on  it.  A  wounded  man  on  entering  had  probably 
placed  his  hand  on  the  table  on  the  spot  where  the  news- 
paper lay.     My  eyes  fell  upon  these  lines : — 

"  M.  Victor  Hugo  has  just  published  an  appeal  to  pil- 
lage and  assassination." 


TEE  EISTOttY  OF  A  CRIME.  313 

In  these  terms  the  journal  of  the  Elysee  described  the 
proclamation  which  I  had  dictated  to  Baudin,  and  which 
may  be  read  in  page  103  of  this  History. 

As  I  threw  back  the  paper  on  the  table  one  of  the  two 
defenders  of  the  barricade  entered.  It  was  the  short 
man. 

"  A  glass  of  water,"  said  he.  By  the  side  of  the  medi- 
cine bottles  there  was  a  decanter  and  a  glass.  He  drank 
greedily.  He  held  in  his  hand  a  morsel  of  bread  and  a 
sausage,  which  he  was  biting. 

Suddenly  we  heard  several  successive  explosions,  follow- 
ing one  after  another,  and  which  seemed  but  a  short  dis- 
tance off.  In  the  silence  of  this  dark  night  it  resembled 
the  sound  of  a  load  of  wood  being  shot  on  to  the  pave- 
ment. 

The  calm  and  serious  voice  of  the  other  combatant 
shouted  from  outside,  "  It  is  beginning." 

"Have  I  time  to  finish  my  bread?"  asked  the  little 
one. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other. 

The  little  one  then  turned  to  me. 

"Citizen  Representative,"  said  he  to  me,  "those  are 
volleys.  They  are  attacking  the  barricades  over  there. 
Really  you  must  go  away." 

I  answered  him,  "  But  you  yourselves  are  going  to  stay 
here." 

"  As  for  us,  we  are  armed,"  resumed  he  ;  "  as  for  you, 
you  are  not  You  will  only  get  yourself  killed  without 
benefiting  any  one.  If  you  had  a  gun,  I  should  say  noth- 
ing.    But  you  have  not.     You  must  go  away." 

"I  cannot,"  I  answered  him.  "I  am  waiting  for  some 
one." 

He  wished  to  continue  and  to  urge  me.  I  pressed  his 
hand. 

"  Let  me  do  as  I  like,"  said  I. 

He  understood  that  my  duty  was  to  remain,  and  no 
longer  persisted. 

There  was  a  pause.  He  again  began  to  bite  his  bread. 
The  gurgling  of  the  dying  man  alone  was  audible.  At 
that  moment  a  sort  of  deep  and  hollow  booming  reached 
us.  The  old  woman  started  from  her  chair,  muttering, 
"  It  is  the  cannon  !  " 

"  No,"  said  the  little  man,  "  it  is  the  slamming  of  a 


314  THE  HISTORY  OF  A   CRIME. 

street-door."  Then  he  resumed,  "  There  now !  I  have 
finished  my  oread,"  and  he  dusted  one  hand  against  the 
other,  and  went  out. 

In  the  meantime  the  explosions  continued,  and  seemed 
to  come  nearer.  A  noise  sounded  in  the  shop.  It  was 
the  last-maker  who  was  coming  back.  He  appeared  on 
the  threshold  of  the  ambulance.     He  was  pale. 

"  Here  I  am,"  said  he,  "  I  have  come  to  fetch  you.  We 
must  go  home.    Let  us  be  off  at  once." 

I  arose  from  the  chair  where  I  had  seated  myself. 
"  What  does  this  mean?    Will  they  not  come?" 

"  No,"  he  answered,  "  no  one  will  come.  All  is  at  an 
end." 

Then  he  hastily  explained  that  he  had  gone  through 
the  whole  of  the  quarter  in  order  to  find  a  gun,  that  it 
was  labor  lost,  that  he  had  spoken  to  "  two  or  three," 
that  we  must  abandon  all  hope  of  the  societies,  that  they 
would  not  come  down,  that  what  had  been  done  during  the 
day  had  appalled  every  one,  that  the  best  men  were  ter- 
rified, that  the  boulevards  were  "full  of  corpses,"  that 
the  soldiers  had  committed  "  horrors,"  that  the  barricade 
was  about  to  be  attacked,  that  on  his  arrival  he  had  heard 
the  noise  of  footsteps  in  the  direction  of  the  crossway, 
that  it  was  the  soldiers  who  were  advancing,  that  we 
could  do  nothing  further  there,  that  we  must  be  off,  that 
this  house  was  "  stupidly  chosen,"  that  there  was  no  out- 
let in  the  rear,  that  perhaps  we  should  already  find  it 
difficult  to  get  out  of  the  street,  and  that  we  had  only 
just  time. 

He  told  this  all  panting,  briefly,  jerkily,  and  interrupted 
at  every  moment  with  this  ejaculation,  "  And  to  think 
that  they  have  no  arms,  and  to  think  that  I  have  no 
gun ! "    ' 

As  he  finished  we  heard  from  the  barricade  a  shout  of 
"  Attention !  "  and  almost  immediately  a  shot  was  fired. 

A  violent  discharge  replied  to  this  shot. 

Several  balls  struck  the  paling  of  the  ambulance,  but 
they  were  too  obliquely  aimed,  and  none  pierced  it.  We 
heard  the  glass  of  several  broken  windows  falling  noisily 
into  the  street. 

"There  is  no  longer  time,"  said  the  last-maker  calmly ; 
"  the  barricade  is  attacked." 

He  took  a  chair  and  sat  down.    The  two  workmen  were 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  315 

evidently  excellent  marksmen.  Two  volleys  assailed  the 
barricade,  one  after  the  other.  The  barricade  answered 
with  animation.  Then  the  fire  ceased.  There  was  a 
pause. 

"  Now  they  are  coming  at  us  with  the  bayonet !  They 
are  coming  at  the  double  !  "  said  a  voice  in  the  barricade. 

The  other  voice  said,  "  Let  us  be  off."  A  last  musket- 
shot  was  fired.  Then  a  violent  blow  which  we  interpreted 
as  a  warning  shook  our  wooden  wall.  It  was  in  reality 
one  of  the  workmen  who  had  thrown  down  his  gun  when 
going  away  ;  the  gun  in  falling  had  struck  the  paling  of 
the  ambulance.  We  beard  the  rapid  steps  of  the  two 
combatants,  as  they  ran  off. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  tumult  of  voices,  and  of 
butt  ends  of  muskets  striking  the  paving-stones,  filled 
the  barricade. 

"  It  is  taken,"  said  the  last-maker,  and  he  blew  out  the 
candle. 

To  the  silence  which  enveloped  this  street  a  moment 
before  succeeded  a  sort  of  ill-omened  tumult.  The  sol- 
diers knocked  at  the  doors  of  the  houses  with  the  butt- 
ends  of  their  muskets.  It  was  by  a  miracle  that  the  shop- 
door  escaped  them.  If  they  had  merely  pushed  against 
it,  they  would  have  seen  that  it  was  not  shut,  and  would 
have  entered. 

A  voice,  probably  the  voice  of  an  officer,  cried  out, 
"  Light  up  the  windows ! "  The  soldiers  swore.  We 
heard  them  say,  "  Where  are  those  blackguard  Reds  ? 
Let  us  search  the  houses."  The  ambulance  was  plunged 
in  darkness.  Not  a  word  was  spoken,  not  a  breath  could 
be  heard;  even  the  dying  man,  as  though  he  divined  the 
danger,  had  ceased  to  gurgle.  I  felt  the  little  girl  press- 
ing herself  against  my  legs. 

A  soldier  struck  the  barrels,  and  said  laughingly, — 

"  Here  is  something  to  make  a  fire  with  to-night." 

Another  resumed, — 

"  Which  way  have  they  gone  ?  They  were  at  least  thirty. 
Let  us  search  the  houses." 

We  heard  one  raising  objections  to  this, — 

"Nonsense!  What  do  you  want  to  do  on  a  night  like 
this?  Enter  the  houses  of  the  'middle  classes'  indeed! 
There  is  some  waste  ground  over  yonder.  They  have 
taken  refuge  there." 


316  TIIE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  All  the  same,"  repeated  the  others, "  let  us  search  the 
houses." 

At  this  moment  a  musket-shot  was  fired  from  the  end 
of  the  street. 

This  shot  saved  us. 

In  fact,  it  was  probably  one  of  the  two  workmen  who 
had  fired  in  order  to  draw  off  their  attention  from  us. 

"  That  comes  from  over  there,"  cried  the  soldiers. 
"  They  are  over  there ! "  and  all  starting  off  at  once  in  the 
direction  from  which  the  shot  had  been  fired,  they  left 
the  barricade  and  ran  down  the  street  at  the  top  of  their 
speed. 

The  last-maker  and  myself  got  up. 

"  They  are  no  longer  there,"  whispered  he.  "  Quick ! 
let  us  be  off." 

"But  this  poor  woman,"  said  I.  "Are  we  going  to 
leave  her  here?" 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  do  not  be  afraid,  I  have  nothing  to 
fear ;  as  for  me,  I  am  an  ambulance.  I  am  taking  care  of 
the  wounded.  I  shall  even  relight  my  candle  when  you 
are  gone.  What  troubles  me  is  that  my  poor  husband 
has  not  yet  come  back !  " 

We  crossed  the  shop  on  tiptoe.  The  last-maker  gently 
opened  the  door  and  glanced  out  into  the  street.  Some 
inhabitants  had  obeyed  the  order  to  light  up  their  win- 
dows, and  four  or  five  lighted  candles  here  and  there 
flickered  in  the  wind  upon  the  sills  of  the  windows.  The 
street  was  no  longer  completely  dark. 

"There  is  no  one  about  now,"  said  the  last-maker; 
"  but  let  us  make  haste,  for  they  will  probably  come 
back." 

"  We  went  out :  the  old  woman  closed  the  door  behind 
us,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  the  street.  We  got  over 
the  barricade  and  hurried  away  as  quickly  as  possible. 
We  passed  by  the  dead  old  man.  He  was  still  there,  lying 
on  the  pavement  indistinctly  revealed  by  the  flickering 
glimmer  from  the  windows  ;  he  looked  as  though  lie  was 
sleeping.  As  we  reached  the  second  barricade  we  heard 
behind  us  the  soldiers,  who  were  returning. 

We  succeeded  in  regaining  the  streets  in  course  of 
demolition.  There  we  were  in  safety.  The  sound  of 
musketry  still  reached  us.  The  last-maker  said,  "  They 
are  fighting  in  the  direction  of  the  Rue  de  Clery."     Leav- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  317 

ing  the  streets  in  course  of  demolition,  we  went  round 
the  markets,  not  without  risk  of  falling  into  the  hands  of 
the  patrols,  by  a  number  of  zigzags,  and  from  one  little 
street  to  another  little  street.  We  reached  the  Rue  Saint 
Honore. 

At  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  l'Arbre  Sec  the  last-maker 
and  I  separated,  "  For  in  truth,"  said  he  to  me,  "two  run 
more  danger  than  one."  And  I  regained  No.  19,  Rue 
Richelieu. 

While  crossing  the  Rue  des  Bourdon nais  we  had 
noticed  the  bivouac  of  the  Place  Saint  Eustache.  The 
troops  who  had  been  dispatched  for  the  attack  had  not 
yet  come  back.  Only  a  few  companies  were  guarding  it. 
We  could  hear  shouts  of  laughter.  The  soldiers  were 
warming  themselves  at  large  fires  lighted  here  and  there. 
In  the  fire  which  was  nearest  to  us  we  could  distinguish 
in  the  middle  of  the  brazier  the  wheels  of  the  vehicles 
which  had  served  for  the  barricades.  Of  some  there  only 
remained  a  great  hoop  of  red-hot  iron. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WHAT   HAPPENED   DURING    THE    NIGHT. — THE 
PETIT    CAKREAU. 

On  the  same  night,  almost  at  the  same  moment,  at  a 
few  paces  distant,  a  villainous  deed  was  being  perpetrated. 

After  the  taking  of  the  barricade,  where  Pierre  Tissie  was 
killed,  seventy  or  eighty  combatants  had  retired  in  good 
order  by  the  Rue  Saint  Sauveur.  They  had  reached  the 
Rue  Montorgueil,  and  had  rejoined  each  other  at  the  junc- 
tion of  the  Rue  du  Petit  Carreau  and  the  Rue  du  Cadran. 
At  this  point  the  street  rises.  At  the  corner  of  the  Rue 
du  Petit  Carreau  and  the  Rue  de  Clery  there  was  a  de- 
serted barricade,  fairly  high  and  well  built.  There  had 
been  fighting  there  during  the  morning.  The  soldiers 
had  taken  it,  but  had  not  demolished  it.  Why  ?  As  we 
have  said,  there  were  several  riddles  of  this  nature  during 
this  day. 

The  armed  band  which  came  from  the  Rue  Saint  Denis 


818  TEE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

had  halted  there  and  had  waited.  These  men  were  as- 
tonished at  not  being  pursued.  Had  the  soldiers  feared 
to  follow  them  into  the  little  narrow  streets,  where  each 
corner  of  the  houses  might  conceal  an  ambuscade?  Had 
a  counter  order  been  given?  They  hazarded  various  con- 
jectures. Moreover  they  heard  close  by,  evidently  on  the 
boulevard,  a  terrific  noise  of  musketry,  and  a  cannonade 
which  resembled  continuous  thunder.  Having  no  more 
ammunition,  they  were  reduced  to  listen.  If  they  had 
known  what  was  taking  place  there,  they  would  have 
understood  why  they  were  not  pursued.  The  butchery 
of  the  boulevard  was  beginning.  The  generals  employed 
in  the  massacre  had  suspended  fighting  for  awhile. 

The  fugitives  of  the  boulevard  streamed  in  their  direc- 
tion, but  when  they  perceived  the  barricade  they  turned 
back.  Some,  however,  joined  them  indignant,  and  crying 
out  for  vengeance.  One  who  lived  in  the  neighborhood 
ran  home  and  brought  back  a  little  tin  barrel  full  of  car- 
tridges. 

These  were  sufficient  for  an  hour's  fighting.  They  be- 
gan to  construct  a  barricade  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  du 
Cadran.  In  this  manner  the  Rue  du  Petit  Carreau,  closed 
by  two  barricades,  one  towards  the  Rue  de  Clery,  the 
other  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  du  Cadran,  commanded 
the  whole  of  the  Rue  Montorgueil.  The  space  between 
these  two  barricades  formed  a  perfect  citadel.  The  second 
barricade  was  stronger  than  the  first. 

These  men  nearly  all  wore  coats.  Some  of  them  rolled 
the  paving-stones  with  gloves  on. 

Few  workmen  were  amongst  them,  but  those  who  were 
there  were  intelligent  and  energetic.  These  workmen 
were  what  might  be  termed  the  "  pick  of  the  crowd." 

Jeanty  Sarre  had  rejoined  them ;  he  at  once  became 
their  leader. 

Charpentier  accompanied  him,  too  brave  to  abandon 
the  enterprise,  but  too  much  a  dreamer  to  become  a  com- 
mander. 

Two  barricades,  enclosing  in  the  same  manner  some 
forty  yards  of  the  Rue  Montorgueil,  had  just  been  con- 
structed at  the  top  of  the  Rue  Mauconseil. 

Three  other  barricades,  extremely  feebly  constructed, 
again  intersected  the  Rue  Montorgueil  in  the  space  which 
separates  the  Rue  Mauconseil  from  Saint  Eustache. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  319 

Evening  was  closing  in.  The  fusilade  was  ceasing  upon 
the  boulevard.  A  surprise  was  possible.  They  estab- 
lished a  sentry-post  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  du  Cadran, 
and  sent  a  main-guard  in  the  direction  of  the  Rue  Mont- 
martre.  Their  scouts  came  in  to  report  some  items  of 
information.  A  regiment  seemed  to  be  preparing  to 
bivouac  in  the  Place  des  Victoires. 

Their  position,  to  all  appearance  strong,  was  not  so  in 
reality.  There  were  too  few  in  number  to  defend  at  the 
same  time  the  two  barricades  on  the  Rue  de  Clery  and 
the  Rue  Montorgueil,  and  the  soldiers  arriving  in  the 
rear  hidden  by  the  second  barricade  would  have  been 
upon  them  without  being  even  noticed.  This  determined 
them  to  establish  a  post  in  the  Rue  do  Olery.  They  put 
themselves  in  communication  with  the  barr"  ades  of  the 
Rue  du  Cadran  and  with  the  two  Mauconseil  barricades. 
These  two  last  barricades  were  only  separated  from  them 
by  a  space  of  about  1 50  paces.  They  were  about  six  feet 
high,  fairly  solid,  but  only  guarded  by  six  workmen  who 
had  built  them. 

Towards  half-past  four,  in  the  twilight — the  twilight 
begins  early  in  December — Jeanty  Sarre  took  four  men 
with  him  and  went  out  to  reconnoitre.  He  thought  also 
of  raising  an  advanced  barricade  in  one  of  the  little  neigh- 
boring streets.  On  the  way  they  found  one  which  had 
been  abandoned,  and  which  had  been  built  with  barrels. 
The  barrels,  however,  were  empty,  only  one  contained 
any  paving-stones,  and  the  barricade  could  not  have  been 
held  for  two  minutes.  As  they  left  this  barricade  they 
were  assailed  by  a  sharp  discharge  of  musketry.  A  com- 
pany of  infantry,  hardly  visible  in  the  dusk,  was  close 
upon  them. 

They  fell  back  hastily;  but  one  of  them,  who  was  a 
shoemaker  of  the  Faubourg  du  Temple,  was  hit,  and 
had  remained  on  the  pavement.  They  went  back  and 
brought  him  away.  lie  had  the  thumb  of  the  right  hand 
smashed.  "Thank  God  !  "  said  Jeanty  Sarre,  "  they  have 
not  killed  him."  "No,"  said  the  poor  man,  "it  is  my 
bread  which  they  have  killed." 

And  he  added,  "I  can  no  longer  work;  who  will 
maintain  my  children?" 

They  went  back,  carrying  the  wounded  man.  One  of 
them,  a  medical  student,  bound  up  his  wound. 


320  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

The  sentries,  whom  it  was  necessary  to  post  in  every 
direction,  and  who  were  chosen  from  the  most  trustworthy 
men,  thinned  and  exhausted  the  little  central  band. 
There  were  scarcely  thirty  in  the  barricade  itself. 

There,  as  in  the  Quarter  of  the  Temple,  all  the  street- 
lamps  were  extinguished  ;  the  gas-pipes  cut ;  the  windows 
closed  and  unlighted  ;  no  moon,  not  even  stars.  The  night 
was  profoundly  dark. 

They  could  hear  distant  fusilades.  The  soldiers  were 
firing  from  around  Saint  Eustache,  and  every  three  minutes 
sent  a  ball  in  their  direction,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  We  are 
here."  Nevertheless  they  did  not  expect  an  attack  before 
the  morning. 

Dialogues  like  the  following  took  place  amongst 
them  : — 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  truss  of  straw,"  said  Charpentier ;  "  I 
have  a  notion  that  we  shall  sleep  here  to-night." 

"  Will  you  be  able  to  get  to  sleep  ? "  asked  Jeanty 
Sarre. 

"  I  ?    Certainly  I  shall  go  to  sleep." 

He  did  go  to  sleep,  in  fact,  a  few  moments  later. 

In  this  gloomy  network  of  narrow  streets,  intersected 
with  barricades,  and  blockaded  by  soldiers,  two  wine- 
shops had  remained  open.  They  made  more  lint  there, 
however,  than  they  drank  wine  ;  the  orders  of  the  chiefs 
were  only  to  drink  reddened  water. 

The  doorway  of  one  of  these  wine-shops  opened  exactly 
between  the  two  barricades  of  the  Petit  Carreau.  In  it 
was  a  clock  by  which  they  regulated  the  sentries'  relief. 
In  a  back  room  they  had  locked  up  two  suspicious-look- 
ing persons  who  had  intermingled  with  the  combatants. 
One  of  these  men  at  the  moment  when  he  was  arrested 
said,  "I  have  come  to  fight  for  Henri  V."  They  kept 
them  under  lock  and  key,  and  placed  a  sentry  at  the  door. 

An  ambulance  had  been  established  in  an  adjoining 
room.  There  the  wounded  shoemaker  was  lying  upon  a 
mattress  thrown  upon  the  ground. 

They  had  established,  in  case  of  need,  another  ambulance 
in  the  Rue  du  Cadran.  An  opening  had  been  effected  at 
the  corner  of  the  barricade  on  this  side,  so  that  the 
wounded  could  be  easily  carried  away. 

Towards  half-past  nine  in  the  evening  a  man  came  up 
to  the  barricade. 


THE  BISTORT  OF  A  CRIME.  321 

Jeanty  Sarre  recognized  him. 

"  Good  day,  Denis,"  said  he. 

"  Call  me,  Gaston,"  said  the  man. 

"Why?" 

"  Because " 

"  Are  you  your  brother  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  my  brother.     For  to-day." 

"  Very  well.     Good-day,  Gaston." 

They  heartily  shook  hands. 

It  was  Denis  Dussoubs. 

He  was  pale,  calm,  and  bleeding ;  he  had  already  been 
fighting  during  the  morning.  At  the  barricade  of  the 
Faubourg  Saint  Martin  a  ball  had  grazed  his  breast,  but 
had  been  turned  off  by  some  money  in  his  pocket,  and  had 
only  broken  the  skin.  He  had  had  the  rare  good  fortune 
of  being  scratched  by  a  ball.  It  was  like  the  first  touch 
from  the  claws  of  death.  He  wore  a  cap,  his  hat  having 
been  left  behind  in  the  barricade  where  he  had  fought : 
and  he  had  replaced  his  bullet-pierced  overcoat,  which 
was  made  of  Belleisle  cloth,  by  a  pea-jacket  bought  at  a 
slop-shop. 

How  had  he  reached  the  barricade  of  the  Petit  Carreau  ? 
He  could  not  say.  He  had  walked  straight  before  him. 
He  had  glided  from  street  to  street.  Chance  takes  the 
predestined  by  the  hand,  and  leads  them  straight  to 
their  goal  through  the  thick  darkness. 

At  the  moment  when  he  entered  the  barricade  they  cried 
out  to  him,  "  Who  goes  there  ?  "  He  answered,  "  The 
Republic !  " 

They  saw  Jeanty  Sarre  shake  him  by  the  hand.  They 
asked  Jeanty  Sarre, — 

"  Who  is  he  ?  " 

Jeanty  Sarre  answered, — 

"  It  is  some  one." 

And  he  added, — 

"  We  were  only  sixty  a  short  time  since.  We  arc  a  hun- 
dred now." 

All  pressed  round  the  new-comer.  Jeanty  Sarre  offered 
hiin  the  command. 

"  No,"  said  he,  "I  do  not  understand  the  tactics  of  bar- 
ricade righting.  I  should  be  a  bad  chief,  but  I  am  a  good 
soldier.     Give  me  a  gun." 

They  seated  themselves  on  the  paving-stones.  They  ex- 
21 


322  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

changed  their  experiences  of  what  had  been  done.  Denis 
described  to  them  the  fighting  on  the  Faubourg  Saint 
Martin.  Jeanty  Sarre  told  Denis  of  the  fighting  in  the 
Rue  Saint  Denis. 

During  all  this  time  the  generals  were  preparing  a  final 
assault, — what  the  Marquis  of  Clermont-Tonnerre,  in  1822, 
called  the  "  Coup  de  Collier,"  and  what,  in  1789,  the 
Prince  of  Lambesc  had  called  the  "  Coup  de  Bas." 

Throughout  all  Paris  there  was  now  only  this  point 
which  offered  any  resistance.  This  knot  of  barricades, 
this  labyrinth  of  streets,  embattled  like  a  redoubt,  was 
the  last  citadel  of  the  People  and  of  Right.  The  generals 
invested  it  leisurely,  step  by  step,  and  on  all  sides.  They 
concentrated  their  forces.  They,  the  combatants  of  this 
fateful  hour,  knew  nothing  of  what  was  being  done.  Only 
from  time  to  time  they  interrupted  their  recital  of  events 
and  they  listened.  From  the  right  and  from  the  left, 
from  the  front,  from  the  rear,  from  every  side,  at  the  same 
time,  an  unmistakable  murmur,  growing  every  moment 
louder,  and  more  distinct,  hoarse,  piercing,  fear-inspiring, 
reached  them  through  the  darkness.  It  was  the  sound  of 
the  battalions  marching  and  charging  at  the  trumpet-com- 
mand in  all  the  adjoining  streets.  '  They  resumed  their 
gallant  conversation,  and  then  in  another  moment  they 
stopped  again  and  listened  to  that  species  of  ill-omened 
chant,  chanted  by  Death,  which  was  approaching. 

Nevertheless  some  still  thought  that  they  would  not  be 
attacked  till  the  next  morning.  Night  combats  are  rare 
in  street-warfare.  They  are  more  "  risky  "  than  all  the 
other  conflicts.  Few  generals  venture  upon  them.  But 
amongst  the  old  hands  of  the  barricade,  from  certain 
never-failing  signs,  they  believed  that  an  assault  was 
imminent. 

In  fact,  at  half-past  ten  at  night,  and  not  at  eight 
o'clock  as  General  Magnan  has  said  in  the  despicable  doc- 
ument which  he  calls  his  report — a  special  movement  was 
heard  in  the  direction  of  the  markets.  This  was  the 
marching  of  the  troops.  Colonel  de  Lourmel  had  deter- 
mined to  make  the  attack.  The  51st  of  the  Line,  posted 
at  Saint  Eustache,  entered  the  Rue  Montorgueil.  The 
2d  battalion  formed  the  advanced  guard.  The  Grena- 
diers and  the  Light  Infantry,  hurled  forward  at  the  double, 
quickly  carried  the  three  little  barricades  which  were  on 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  323 

the  other  side  of  the  vacant  space  of  the  Rue  Mauconseil, 
and  the  feebly  defended  barricades  of  the  adjoining 
streets.  It  was  at  that  very  moment  that  the  barricade 
near  which  I  was  happened  to  be  carried. 

From  the  barricade  of  the  Petit  Carreau  they  heard  the 
night-strife  draw  near  through  the  darkness,  with  a  fitful 
noise,  strange  and  appalling.  First  a  great  tumult,  then 
volleys,  then  silence,  and  then  all  began  again.  The  flash- 
ing of  the  fusilades  suddenly  delineated  in  the  darkness 
the  outlines  of  the  houses,  which  appeared  as  though  they 
themselves  were  affrighted. 

The  decisive  moment  drew  near. 

The  outpost  had  fallen  back  upon  the  barricades.  The 
advanced  posts  of  the  Rue  de  Clery  and  the  Rue  du  Cadran 
had  come  back.  They  called  over  the  roll.  Not  one  of 
those  of  the  morning  was  missing. 

They  were,  as  we  have  said,  about  sixty  combatants, 
and  not  a  hundred,  as  the  Magnan  report  has  stated. 

From  the  upper  extremity  of  the  street  where  they  were 
stationed  it  was  difficult  to  ascertain  what  was  happen- 
ing. They  did  not  exactly  know  how  many  barricades 
they  were  in  the  Rue  Montorgueil  between  them  and 
Saint  Eustache,  whence  the  troops  were  coming.  They 
only  knew  that  their  nearest  point  of  resistance  was  the 
double  Mauconseil  barricade,  and  that,  when  all  was  at  an 
end  there,  it  would  be  their  turn. 

Denis  had  posted  himself  on  the  inner  side  of  the  barri- 
cade in  such  a  manner  that  half  his  body  was  above  the 
top,  and  from  there  he  watched.  The  glimmer  which 
came  from  the  doorway  of  the  wine-shop  rendered  his 
gestures  visible. 

Suddenly  he  made  a  sign.  The  attack  on  the  Mau- 
conseil redoubt  was  beginning. 

The  soldiers,  in  fact,  after  having  some  time  hesitated 
before  this  double  wall  of  paving-stones,  lofty,  well-built, 
and  which  they  supposed  was  well  defended,  had  ended 
by  rushing  upon  it,  and  attacking  it  with  blows  of  their 
guns. 

They  were  not  mistaken.  It  was  well  defended.  We 
have  already  said  that  there  were  only  six  men  in  this 
barricade,  the  six  workmen  who  had  built  it.  Of  the  six 
one  only  had  three  cartridges,  the  others  had  only  two 
shots  to  fire.     These  six  men  heard  the  regiment  advanc- 


324  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

ing  and  the  roll  of  the  battery  which  was  followed  on  it, 
and  did  not  stir.  Each  remained  silent  at  his  post  of 
battle,  the  barrel  of  his  gun  between  two  paving-stones. 
When  the  soldiers  were  within  range  they  fired,  and  the 
battalion  replied. 

"  That  is  right.  Rage  away,  Red  Breeches,"  said,  laugh- 
ingly, the  man  who  had  three  shots  to  fire. 

Behind  them,  the  men  of  the  Petit  Carreau  were 
crowded  round  Denis  and  Jeanty  Sarre,  and  leaning  on 
the  crest  of  their  barricade,  stretching  their  necks  towards 
the  Mauconseil  redoubt,  they  watched  them  like  the  glad- 
iators of  the  next  combat. 

The  six  men  of  this  Mauconseil  redoubt  resisted  the  on- 
slaught of  the  battalion  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 
They  did  not  fire  together,  "  in  order,"  one  of  them  said, 
"  to  make  the  pleasure  last  the  longer."  The  pleasure  of 
being  killed  for  duty ;  a  noble  sentence  in  this  workman's 
mouth.  They  did  not  fall  back  into  the  adjoining  streets 
until  after  having  exhausted  their  ammunition.  The  last, 
he  who  had  three  cartridges,  did  not  leave  until  the 
soldiers  were  actually  scaling  the  summit  of  the  barri- 
cade. 

In  the  barricade  of  the  Petit  Carreau  not  a  word  was 
spoken ;  they  followed  all  the  phases  of  this  struggle,  and 
they  pressed  each  other's  hands. 

Suddenly  the  noise  ceased,  the  last  musket-shot  was 
fired.  A  moment  afterwards  they  saw  the  lighted  candles 
being  placed  in  all  the  windows  which  looked  out  on  the 
Mauconseil  redoubt.  The  bayonets  and  the  brass  orna- 
ments on  the  shakos  sparkled  there.  The  barricade  was 
taken. 

The  commander  of  the  battalion,  as  is  always  the 
custom  in  similar  circumstances,  had  sent  orders  into  the 
adjoining  houses  to  light  up  all  the  windows. 

This  was  done  at  the  Mauconseil  redoubt. 

Seeing  that  their  hour  had  come,  the  sixty  combatants 
of  the  barricade  of  the  Petit  Carreau  mounted  their  heap 
of  paving-stones,  and  shouted  with  one  voice,  in  the 
mids  tof  the  darkness,  this  piercing  cry,  "  Long  live  the 
Republic !  " 

No  one  answered  them. 

They  could  only  hear  the  battalion  loading  their  guns. 

This  acted  upon  them  as  a  species  of  signal  for  action. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  325 

They  were  all  worn  out  with  fatigue,  having  been  on  their 
feet  since  the  preceding  day,  carrying  paving-stones  or 
fighting,  the  greater  part  had  neither  eaten  nor  slept. 

Charpentier  said  to  Jeanty  Sarre, — 

«  We  shall  all  be  killed." 

"  Shall  we  really !  "  said  Jeanty  Sarre. 

Jeanty  Sarre  ordered  the  door  of  the  wine-shop  to  be 
closed,  so  that  their  barricade,  completely  shrouded  in 
darkness,  would  give  them  some  advantage  over  the  barri- 
cade which  was  occupied  by  the  soldiers  and  lighted  up. 

In  the  meantime  the  51st  searched  the  streets,  carried 
the  wounded  into  the  ambulances,  and  took  up  their  posi- 
tion in  the  double  barricade  of  the  Uue  Mauconseil.  Half 
an  hour  thus  elapsed. 

Now,  in  order  to  clearly  understand  what  is  about  to 
follow,  the  reader  must  picture  to  himself  in  this  silent 
street,  in  this  darkness  of  the  night,  at  from  sixty  to 
eighty  yards  apart,  within  speaking  distance,  these  two 
redoubts  facing  each  other,  and  able  as  in  an  Iliad  to 
address  each  other. 

On  one  side  the  Army,  on  the  other  side  the  People, 
the  darkness  over  all. 

The  species  of  truce  which  .always  precedes  decisive  en- 
counters drew  to  a  close.  The  preparations  were  com- 
pleted on  both  sides.  The  soldiers  could  be  heard  forming 
into  order  of  battle,  and  the  captains  giving  out  their 
commands.     It  was  evident  that  the  struggle  was  at  hand. 

"  Let  us  begin,"  said  Charpentier ;  and  he  raised  his  gun. 

Denis  held  his  arm  back.     "  Wait,"  he  said. 

Then  an  epic  incident  was  seen. 

Denis  slowly  mounted  the  paving-stones  of  the  barri- 
cade, ascended  to  the  top,  and  stood  there  erect,  unarmed 
and  bareheaded. 

Thence  he  raised  his  voice,  and,  facing  the  soldiers,  he 
shouted  to  them,  "  Citizens  !  " 

At  this  word  a  sort  of  electric  shudder  ensued  which 
was  felt  from  one  barricade  to  the  other.  Every  sound 
was  hushed,  every  voice  was  silent,  on  both  sides  reigned 
a  deep  religious  and  solemn  silence.  By  the  distant 
glimmer  of  a  few  lighted  windows  the  soldiers  could 
vaguely  distinguish  a  man  standing  above  a  mass  of 
shadows,  like  a  phantom  who  was  speaking  to  them  in 
the  night. 


826  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Denis  continued, — 

"  Citizens  of  the  Army !     Listen  to  me ! " 

The  silence  grew  still  more  profound. 

He  resumed, — 

"  What  have  you  come  to  do  here  ?  You  and  ourselves, 
all  of  us  who  are  in  this  street,  at  this  hour,  with  the 
sword  or  gun  in  hand,  what  are  we  about  to  do?  To 
kill  each  other !  To  kill  each  other,  citizens !  Why  ? 
Because  they  have  raised  a  misunderstanding  between 
us  !  Because  we  obey- — you  your  discipline — we  our 
Right!  You  believe  that  you  are  carrying  out  your 
instructions  ;  as  for  us,  we  know  that  we  are  doing  our 
duty.  Yes  !  it  is  Universal  Suffrage,  it  is  the  Right  of  the 
Republic,  it  is  our  Right  that  we  are  defending,  and  our 
Right,  soldiers,  is  your  Right.  The  Army  is  the  People, 
as  the  People  is  the  Armjr.  We  are  the  same  nation,  the 
same  country,  the  same  men.  My  God !  See,  is  there 
any  Russian  blood  in  my  veins,  in  me  who  am  speaking 
to  you?  Is  there  any  Prussian  blood  in  your  veins,  in 
you  who  are  listening  to  me?  No!  Why  then  should 
we  fight?  It  is  always  an  unfortunate  thing  for  a  man 
to  fire  upon  a  man.  Nevertheless,  a  gun-shot  between  a 
Frenchman  and  an  Englishman  can  be  understood ;  but 
between  a  Frenchman  and  a  Frenchman,  ah !  that 
wounds  Reason,  that  wounds  France,  that  wounds  our 
mother !  " 

All  anxiously  listened  to  him.  At  this  moment  from 
the  opposite  barricade  a  voice  shouted  to  him, — 

"  Go  home,  then  !  " 

At  this  coarse  interruption  an  angry  murmur  ran 
through  Denis's  companions,  and  several  guns  could  be 
heard  being  loaded.     Denis  restrained  them  by  a  sign. 

This  sign  possessed  a  strange  authority. 

"  Who  is  this  man  ?  "  the  combatants  behind  the  barri- 
cade asked  each  other.     Suddenly  they  cried  out,— 

"  He  is  a  Representative  of  the  People  ! " 

Denis  had,  in  fact,  suddenly  assumed  his  brother 
Gaston's  sash. 

What  he  had  premeditated  was  about  to  be  accom- 
plished ;  the  hour  of  the  heroic  falsehood  had  arrived. 
He  cried  out, — 

"  Soldiers,  do  you  know  what  the  man  is  who  is  speak- 
ing to  you  at  this  moment  ?    He  is  not  only  a  citizen,  he 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  327 

is  a  Legislator !  He  is  a  Representative  chosen  by  Uni- 
versal Suffrage !  My  name  is  Dussoubs,  and  I  am  a 
Representative  of  the  People.  It  is  in  the  name  of  the 
National  Assembly,  it  is  in  the  name  of  the  Sovereign 
Assembly,  it  is  in  the  name  of  the  People,  and  in  the 
name  of  the  Law,  that  I  summon  you  to  hear  me.  Sol- 
diers, you  are  the  armed  force.  Well,  then,  when  the 
Law  speaks,  the  armed  force  listens." 

This  time  the  silence  was  not  broken. 

We  reproduce  these  words  almost  literally ;  such  as 
they  are,  and  such  as  they  have  remained  graven  on  the 
memory  of  those  who  heard  them  ;  but  what  we  can- 
not reproduce,  and  what  should  be  added  to  these  words, 
in  order  to  realize  the  effect,  is  the  attitude,  the  accent, 
the  thrill  of  emotion,  the  vibration  of  the  words  issuing 
from  this  noble  breast,  the  intense  impression  produced 
by  the  terrible  hour  and  place. 

Denis  Dussoubs  continued :  "  He  spoke  for  some 
twenty  minutes,"  an  eye-witness  has  told  me.  Another 
has  said,  "He  spoke  with  a  loud  voice;  the  whole  street 
heard  him."  He  was  vehement,  eloquent,  earnest ;  a 
judge  for  Bonaparte,  a  friend  for  the  soldiers.  He  sought 
to  rouse  them  by  everything  which  could  still  vibrate  in 
them  ;  he  recalled  to  them  their  true  wars,  their  true  vic- 
tories, the  national  glory,  the  ancient  military  honor,  the 
flag.  He  told  them  that  all  this  was  about  to  be  slain 
by  the  bullets  from  their  guns.  He  adjured  them,  he 
ordered  them  to  join  themselves  to  the  People  and  to  the 
Law ;  and  then  suddenly  coming  back  to  the  first  words 
which  he  had  pronounced,  carried  away  by  that  frater- 
nity with  which  his  soul  overflowed,  he  interrupted  him- 
self in  the  middle  of  a  half-completed  sentence,  and  cried 
out : — 

"  But  to  what  purpose  are  all  these  words  ?  It  is  not 
all  this  that  is  wanted,  it  is  a  shake  of  the  hand  between 
brothers  !  Soldiers,  you  are  there  opposite  us,  at  a  hun- 
dred paces  from  us,  in  a  barricade,  with  the  sword  drawn, 
with  guns  pointed ;  you  are  aiming  directly  at  me ;  well 
then,  all  of  us  who  are  here  love  you  !  There  is  not  one 
of  us  who  would  not  give  his  life  for  one  of  you.  You  are 
the  peasants  of  the  fields  of  France ;  we  are  the  workmen 
of  Paris.  What,  then,  is  in  question?  Simply  to  see 
each  other,  to  speak  to  each  other,  and   not  to  cut  each 


328  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

other's  throats.  Shall  we  try  this  ?  Say !  Ah !  as  for 
myself  in  this  frightful  battle-field  of  civil  war,  I  would 
rather  die  than  kill.  Look  now,  I  am  going  to  get  off 
this  barricade  and  come  to  you.  I  am  unarmed ;  I  only 
know  that  you  are  my  brothers.  I  am  confident,  I  am 
calm  ;  and  if  one  of  you  presents  his  bayonet  at  me,  I  will 
offer  him  my  hand." 

He  finished  speaking. 

A  voice  cried  out  from  the  opposite  barricade,  "  Advance 
in  order ! " 

Then  they  saw  him  slowly  descend  the  dimly-lighted 
crest  of  the  barricade,  paving-stone  by  paving-stone,  and 
plunge  with  head  erect  into  the  dark  street. 

From  the  barricade  all  eyes  followed  him  with  an  in- 
expressible anxiety.  Hearts  ceased  beating,  mouths  no 
longer  breathed. 

No  one  attempted  to  restrain  Denis  Dussoubs.  Each 
felt  that  he  was  going  where  he  ought  to  go.  Charpentier 
wished  to  accompany  him.  "  Would  you  like  me  to  go 
with  you?"  he  cried  out  to  him.  Dussoubs  refused,  with 
a  shake  of  the  head. 

Dussoubs,  alone  and  grave,  advanced  towards  the  Mau- 
conseil  Barricade.  The  night  was  so  dark  that  they  lost 
sight  of  him  immediately.  They  could  distinguish  only 
for  a  few  seconds  his  peaceable  and  intrepid  bearing. 
Then  he  disappeared.  They  could  no  longer  see  anything. 
It  was  an  inauspicious  moment.  The  night  was  dark  and 
dumb.  There  could  only  be  heard  in  this  thick  darkness 
the  sound  of  a  measured  and  firm  step  dying  away  in  the 
distance. 

After  some  time,  how  long  no  one  could  reckon,  so  com- 
pletely did  emotion  eclipse  thought  amongst  the  witnesses 
of  this  marvellous  scene,  a  glimmer  of  light  appeared  in 
the  barricade  of  the  soldiers ;  it  was  probably  a  lantern 
which  was  being  brought  or  taken  away.  By  the  flash 
they  again  saw  Dussoubs,  he  was  close  to  the  barricade, 
he  had  almost  reached  it,  he  was  walking  towards  it  with 
his  arms  stretched  out  like  Christ. 

Suddenly  the  word  of  command,  "  Fire ! "  was  heard. 
A  fusilade  burst  forth. 

They  had  fired  upon  Dussoubs  when  he  was  at  the 
muzzles  of  their  guns. 

Dussoubs  fell. 


THE  HISTORY  OE  A  CRIME.  329 

Then  he  raised  himself  and  cried,  "Long  live  the 
Republic !  " 

Another  bullet  struck  him,  he  fell  again.  Then  they 
saw  him  raise  himself  once  more,  and  heard  him  shout  in 
a  loud  voice,  "  I  die  with  the  Republic." 

These  were  his  last  words. 

In  this  manner  died  Denis  Dussoubs. 

It  was  not  vainly  that  he  had  said  to  his  brother, 
"  Your  sash  will  be  there." 

He  was  anxious  that  this  sash  should  do  its  duty.  He 
determined  in  the  depths  of  his  great  soul  that  this  sash 
should  triumph  either  through  the  law  or  through  death. 

That  is  to  say,  in  the  first  case  it  would  save  Right,  in 
the  second  save  Honor. 

Dying,  he  could  say,  "  I  have  succeeded." 

Of  the  two  possible  triumphs  of  which  he  had  dreamed, 
the  gloomy  triumph  was  not  the  less  splendid. 

The  insurgent  of  the  Elysee  thought  that  he  had  killed 
a  Representative  of  the  People,  and  boasted  of  it.  The 
sole  journal  published  by  the  coup  (Vetat  under  these  dif- 
ferent titles  Patrie,  Univers,  Monitcur,  Parisien,  etc.,  an- 
nounced on  the  next  day,  Friday,  the  5th,  "  that  the  ex- 
Representative  Dussoubs  (Gaston)  had  been  killed  at  the 
barricade  of  the  Rue  Neuve  Saint  Eustache,  and  that  he 
bore  '  a  red  flag  in  his  hand.'  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WHAT  WAS  DONE  DUKING  THE  NIGHT — THE  PASSAGE  DU 
SAUMON. 

When  those  on  the  barricade  of  the  Petit  Carreau  saw 
Dussoubs  fall,  so  gloriously  for  his  friends,  so  shamefully 
for  his  murderers,  a  moment  of  stupor  ensued.  Was  it 
possible?  Did  they  really  see  this  before  them ?  Such  a 
crime  committed  by  our  soldiers  ?   Horror  filled  every  soul. 

This  moment  of  surprise  did  not  last  long.  "  Long  live 
the  Republic!  "  shouted  the  barricade  with  one  voice,  and 
it  replied  to  the  ambuscade  by  a  formidable  fire. 

The  conflict  began.  A  mad  conflict  on  the  part  of  the 
coxip  d'etat,  a  struggle  of  despair  on  the  side  of  the  Re- 


330  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

public.  On  the  side  of  the  soldiers  an  appalling  and  cold- 
blooded resolution,  a  passive  and  ferocious  obedience, 
numbers,  good  arms,  absolute  chiefs,  pouches  filled  with 
cartridges.  On  the  side  of  the  People  no  ammunition, 
disorder,  weariness,  exhaustion,  no  discipline,  indignation 
serving  for  a  leader. 

It  appears  that  while  Dussoubs  was  speaking,  fifteen 
grenadiers,  commanded  by  a  sergeant  named  Pitrois,  had 
succeeded  in  gliding  in  the  darkness  along  the  houses, 
and,  unperceived  and  unheard,  had  taken  up  their  posi- 
tion close  to  the  barricade.  These  fifteen  men  suddenly- 
formed  themselves  together  with  lowered  bayonets  at 
twenty  paces  from  the  barricade  ready  to  scale  it.  A 
volley  received  them.  They  fell  back,  leaving  several 
corpses  in  the  gutter.  Major  Jeannin  cried  out,  "  Finish 
them  off."  The  entire  battalion  which  occupied  the  Mau- 
conseil  barricade,  then  appeared  with  raised  bayonets 
upon  the  uneven  crest  of  this  barricade,  and  from  there 
without  breaking  their  line,  with  a  sudden,  but  regulated 
and  inexorable  movement,  sprang  into  the  street.  The 
four  companies,  in  close  order,  and  as  though  mingled 
and  hardly  visible,  seemed  like  a  wave  precipitating  itself 
with  a  great  noise  from  the  height  of  the  barricade. 

At  the  barricade  of  the  Petit  Carreau  they  noted  the 
manoeuvre,  and  had  paused  in  their  fire.  "  Present,"  cried 
Jeanty  Sarre,  "  but  do  not  fire ;  wait  for  the  order." 

Each  put  his  gun  to  his  shoulder,  then  placed  the  bar- 
rels between  the  paving-stones,  ready  to  fire,  and  waited. 

As  soon  as  it  had  quitted  the  Mauconseil  redoubt,  the 
battalion  rapidly  formed  itself  into  an  attacking  column, 
and  a  moment  afterwards  they  heard  the  intermittent 
sound  of  an  advance  at  the  double.  It  was  the  battalion 
which  was  coming  upon  them. 

"  Charpentier,"  said  Jeanty  Sarre,  "you  have  good  eyes. 
Are  they  midway  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Charpentier. 

"  Fire,"  said  Jeanty  Sarre. 

The  barricade  fired.  The  whole  street  was  filled  with 
smoke.  Several  soldiers  fell.  They  could  hear  the  cries 
of  the  wounded.  The  battalion,  riddled  with  balls,  halted 
and  replied  by  platoon  firing. 

Seven  or  eight  combatants  whose  bodies  reached  above 
the  barricade,  which  had  been  made  hastily  and  was  too 


TI1E  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  331 

low,  were  hit.  Three  were  killed  on  the  spot.  One  fell 
wounded  by  a  ball  in  his  stomach,  between  Jeanty  Sarre 
and  Charpentier.     lie  shrieked  out  with  pain. 

"  Quick,  to  the  ambulance!"  said  Jeanty  Sarre. 

"Where?" 

"  In  the  Rue  du  Cadran." 

Jeanty  Sarre  and  Charpentier  picked  up  the  wounded 
man,  the  one  by  the  feet,  the  other  by  the  head,  and  car- 
ried him  to  the  Rue  du  Cadran  through  the  passage  in 
the  barricade. 

During  all  this  time  there  was  continued  file  firing. 
There  no  longer  seemed  anything  in  the  street  but  smoke, 
the  balls  whistling  and  crossing  each  other,  the  brief  and 
repeated  commands,  some  plaintive  cries,  and  the  flash 
of  the  guns  lighting  up  the  darkness. 

Suddenly  a  loud  voice  cried  out,  "  Forwards !  "  The 
battalion  resumed  its  double-quick  march  and  threw  itself 
upon  the  barricade. 

Then  ensued  a  horrible  scene.  They  fought  hand  to 
hand,  four  hundred  on  the  one  side,  fifty  on  the  other. 
They  seized  each  other  by  the  collar,  by  the  throat,  by 
the  mouth,  by  the  hair.  There  was  no  longer  a  cartridge 
in  the  barricade,  but  there  remained  despair.  A  work- 
man, pierced  through  and  through,  snatched  the  bayonet 
from  his  belly,  and  stabbed  a  soldier  with  it.  They  did 
not  see  each  other,  but  they  devoured  each  other.  It  was 
a  desperate  scuffle  in  the  dark. 

The  barricade  did  not  hold  out  for  two  minutes.  In 
several  places,  it  may  be  remembered,  it  was  low.  It  was 
rather  stridden  over  than  scaled.  That  was  all  the  more 
heroic.  One  of  the  survivors  *  told  the  writer  of  these 
lines,  "The  barricade  defended  itself  very  badly,  but  the 
men  died  very  well." 

All  this  took  place  while  Jeanty  Sarre  and  Charpentier 
were  carrying  the  wounded  man  to  the  ambulance  in  the 
Rue  du  Cadran.  His  wounds  having  been  attended  to, 
they  came  back  to  the  barricade.  They  had  just  reached 
it  when  they  heard  themselves  called  by  name.  A  feeble 
voice  close  by  said  to  them,  "Jeanty  Sarre!  Charpentier!" 
They  turned  round  and  saw  one  of  their  men  who  was 
dying  leaning  against  a  wall,  and  his  knees  giving  way 
beneath   him.     lie  was   a   combatant   who  had  left  the 

*  February  IS.    Louvain. 


332  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

barricade.  lie  had  only  been  able  to  take  a  few  steps 
down  the  street.  He  held  his  hand  over  his  breast,  where 
he  had  received  a  ball  fired  at  close  quarters.  lie  said  to 
them  in  a  scarcely  audible  voice,  "  The  barricade  is  taken, 
save  yourselves." 

"  No,"  said  Jeanty  Sarre,  "I  must  unload  my  gun." 
Jeanty  Sarre  re-entered  the  barricade,  fired  a  last  shot 
and  went  away. 

Nothing  could  be  more  frightful  than  the  interior  of  the 
captured  barricade. 

The  Republicans,  overpowered  by  numbers,  no  longer 
offered  any  resistance.  The  officers  cried  out,  "  No 
prisoners  !  "  The  soldiers  killed  those  who  were  stand- 
ing, and  despatched  those  who  had  fallen.  Many  awaited 
their  death  with  their  heads  erect.  The  dying  raised 
themselves  up,  and  shouted,  "Long  live  the  Republic  ! " 
Some  soldiers  ground  their  heels  upon  the  faces  of  the 
dead,  so  that  they  should  not  be  recognized.  There, 
stretched  out  amongst  the  corpses,  in  the  middle  of  the 
barricade,  with  his  hair  in  the  gutter,  was  seen  the  all-hut 
namesake  of  Charpentier,  Carpentier,  the  delegate  of  the 
committee  of  the  Tenth  Arrondissement,  who  had  been 
killed,  and  had  fallen  backwards,  with  two  balls  in  his 
breast.  A  lighted  candle  which  the  soldiers  had  taken 
from  the  wine-shop  was  placed  on  a  paving  stone. 

The  soldiers  were  infuriated.  One  would  say  that  they 
were  revenging  themselves.  On  whom  ?  A  workman, 
named  Paturel,  received  three  balls  and  six  bayonet- 
thrusts,  four  of  which  were  in  the  head.  They  thought  that 
he  was  dead,  and  they  did  not  renew  the  attack.  He  felt 
them  search  him.  They  took  ten  francs  which  he  had 
about  him.  He  did  not  die  till  six  days  later,  and  he  was 
able  to  relate  the  details  which  are  given  here.  We  may 
note,  by  the  way,  that  the  name  of  Paturel  does  not  figure 
upon  any  of  the  lists  of  the  corpses  published  by  M. 
Bonaparte. 

Sixty  Republicans  were  shut  up  in  this  redoubt  of  the 
Petit  Carreau.  Forty-six  were  killed  there.  These  men 
had  come  there  that  morning  free,  proud  to  fight,  and 
joyous  to  die.  At  midnight  all  was  at  an  end.  The 
night  Avagons  carried  away  on  the  next  day  nine 
corpses  to  the  hospital  cemetery,  and  thirty-seven  to 
Montmartre. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  333 

Jeanty  Sarre  escaped  hy  a  miracle,  as  well  as  Charpentier, 
and  a  third  whose  name  we  have  not  been  able  to  as- 
certain. They  glided  along  the  houses  and  reached  the 
Passage  du  Saumon.  The  grated  doors  which  closed  the 
Passage  during  the  night  only  reached  to  the  centre  of 
the  archway.  They  climbed  it  and  got  over  the  spikes, 
at  the  risk  of  tearing  themselves.  Jeanty  Sarre  was  the 
first  to  climb  it;  having  reached  the  summit,  one  of  the 
spikes  pierced  his  trousers,  hooked  them,  and  Jeanty  Sarre 
fell  headforemost  upon  the  pavement.  He  got  up  again, 
he  was  only  stunned.  The  other  two  followed  him,  and 
gliding  along  the  bars,  all  three  found  themselves  in  the 
Passage.  It  was  dimly  lighted  by  a  lamp  which  shone 
at  one  end.  In  the  meanwhile,  they  heard  the  soldiers, 
who  were  pursuing  them,  coming  up.  In  order  to  escape 
by  the  Rue  Montmartre,  they  would  have  to  climb  the 
grated  gateway  at  the  other  end  of  the  Passage ;  their 
hands  were  grazed,  their  knees  were  bleeding  ;  they  were 
dying  of  weariness;  they  were  in  no  condition  to  recom- 
mence a  similar  ascent. 

Jeanty  Sarre  knew  where  the  keeper  of  the  Passage 
lived.  He  knocked  at  his  window,  and  begged  him  to 
open.     The  keeper  refused. 

At  this  moment  the  detachment  which  had  been  sent 
in  pursuit  of  them  reached  the  grated  gateway  which  they 
had  just  climbed.  The  soldiers,  hearing  a  noise  in  the 
Passage,  passed  the  barrels  of  their  guns  through  the  bars. 
Jeanty  Sarre  squeezed  himself  against  the  wall  behind 
one  of  those  projecting  columns  which  decorate  the 
Passage;  but  the  column  was  very  thin,  and  only  half 
covered  him.  The  soldiers  fired,  and  smoke  filled  the 
Passage.  When  it  cleared  away,  Jeanty  Sarre  saw  Char- 
pentier stretched  on  the  stones,  with  his  face  to  the 
ground.  He  had  been  shot  through  the  heart.  Their 
other  companion  lay  a  few  paces  from  him,  mortally 
wounded. 

The  soldiers  did  not  scale  the  grated  gateway,  but  they 
posted  a  sentinel  before  it.  Jeanty  Sarre  heard  them 
going  away  by  the  Hue  Montmartre.  They  would  doubt- 
less come  back. 

No  means  of  flight.  He  felt  all  the  doors  round  his 
prison  successively.  One  of  them  at  length  opened.  This 
appeared  to  him  like  a  miracle.     Whoever  could  have  for- 


334  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

gotten  to  shut  the  door?  Providence,  doubtless.  He 
hid  himself  behind  it,  and  remained  there  for  more  than 
an  hour,  standing  motionless,  scarcely  breathing. 

He  no  longer  heard  any  sound ;  he  ventured  out.  The 
sentinel  was  no  longer  there.  The  detachment  had  re- 
joined the  battalion. 

One  of  his  old  friends,  a  man  to  whom  he  had  rendered 
services  such  as  are  not  forgotten,  lived  in  this  very  Pas- 
sage du  Saumon.  Jeanty  Sarre  looked  for  the  number, 
woke  the  porter,  told  him  the  name  of  his  friend,  was 
admitted,  went  up  the  stairs,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 
The  door  was  opened,  his  friend  appeared  in  his  night- 
shirt, with  a  candle  in  his  hand. 

He  recognized  Jeanty  Sarre,  and  cried  out,  "  You  here! 
What  a  state  you  are  in!  Where  have  you  come  from? 
From  what  riot?  From  what  madness  ?  And  then  you 
come  to  compromise  us  all  here  ?  To  have  us  murdered  ? 
To  have  us  shot  ?  Now  then,  what  do  you  want  with 
me?" 

"  I  want  you  to  give  me  a  brush  clown,"  said  Jeanty 
Sarre. 

His  friend  took  a  brush  and  brushed  him,  and  Jeanty 
Sarre  went  away.  While  going  down  the  stairs,  Jeanty 
Sarre  cried  out  to  his  friend,  "  Thanks  !  " 

Such  is  the  kind  of  hospitality  which  we  have  since 
received  in  Belgium,  in  Switzerland,  and  even  in  England. 

The  next  day,  when  they  took  up  the  bodies  they  found 
on  Charpentier  a  note-book  and  a  pencil,  and  upon  Denis 
Dussoubs  a  letter.  A  letter  to  a  woman.  Even  these 
stoic  souls  love. 

On  the  1st  of  December,  Denis  Dussoubs  began  this 
letter.     He  did  not  finish  it.     Here  it  is  : — 

"My  dear  Marie, 

"Have  you  experienced  that  sweet  pain  of  feeling 
regret  for  him  who  regrets  you  ?  For  myself  since  I  left 
you  I  have  known  no  other  affliction  than  that  of  think- 
ing of  you.  Even  in  my  affliction  itself  there  was  some- 
thing sweet  and  tender,  and  although  I  was  troubled,  I 
was  nevertheless  happy  to  feel  in  the  depths  of  my  heart 
how  greatly  I  loved  you  by  the  regret  which  you  cost  me. 
Why  are  we  separated?  Why  have  I  been  forced  to  fly 
from  you  ?     For  we  were  so  happy !     When  I  think  of 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  335 

our  little  evenings  so  free  from  constraint,  of  our  guy 
country  chats  with  your  sisters,  I  feel  myself  seized  with 
a  bitter  regret.  Did  we  not  love  each  other  dearly,  my 
darling?  We  had  no  secret  from  each  other  because  we 
had  no  need  to  have  one,  and  our  lips  uttered  the  thoughts 
of  our  hearts  without  our  thinking  to  keep  anything 
back. 

"  God  has  snatched  away  from  us  all  these  blessings, 
and  nothing  will  console  me  for  having  lost  them  ;  do  you 
not  lament  with  me  the  evils  of  absence? 

"  How  seldom  we  see  those  whom  we  love !  Circum- 
stances take  us  far  from  them,  and  our  soul  tormented 
and  attracted  out  of  ourselves  lives  in  ;i  perpetual  anguish. 
I  feel  this  sickness  of  absence.  I  imagine  myself  wherever 
you  are.  I  follow  your  work  with  my  eyes,  or  I  listen  to 
your  words,  seated  beside  you  and  seeking  to  divine  the 
word  which  you  are  about  to  utter  ;  your  sisters  sew  by 
our  side.  Empty  dreams — illusions  of  a  moment — njy 
hand  seeks  yours  ;  where  are  you,  my  beloved  one? 

"  My  life  is'an  exile.  Far  from  those  whom  I  love  and 
by  whom  I  am  loved,  my  heart  calls  them  and  consumes 
away  in  its  grief.  Xo,  I  do  not  love  the  great  cities  and 
their  noise,  towns  peopled  with  strangers  where  no  one 
knows  you  and  where  you  know  no  one,  where  each  one 
jostles  and  elbows  the  other  without  ever  exchanging  a 
smile.  But  I  love  our  quiet  fields,  the  peace  of  home,  and 
the  voice  of  friends  who  greet  you.  Up  to  the  present  I 
have  always  lived  in  contradiction  with  my  nature;  my 
fiery  blood,  my  nature  so  hostile  to  injustice,  the  spectacle 
of  unmerited  miseries  have  thrown  me  into  a  struggle  of 
which  1  do  not  foresee  the  issue,  a  struggle  in  which  I 
will  remain  to  the  end  without  fear  and  without  reproach, 
but  which  daily  breaks  me  down  and  consumes  my  life. 

"I  tell  you,  my  much-loved  darling,  the  secret  miseries 
of  my  heart;  no,  I  do  not  blush  for  what  my  hand  has 
just  written,  but  my  heart  is  sick  and  suffering,  and  I  tell 
it  to  you.  I  suffer.  ...  I  wish  to  blot  out  these  lines, 
but  why?  Could  they  offend  you?  What  do  they 
contain  that  could  wound  my  darling?  Do  I  not  know 
your  affection,  and  do  1  not  know  that  you  love  me  ?  Yes, 
you  have  not  deceived  me,  I  did  not  kiss  a  lying  mouth; 
when  seated  on  my  knees  you  lulled  me  with  the  charm 
of  your  words,  I  believed  you.     I  wished  to  bind  myself 


336  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

to  a  burning  iron  bar;  weariness  preys  upon  me  and 
devours  me.  I  feel  a  maddening  desire  to  recover  life.  Is 
it  Paris  that  produces  this  effect  upon  me?  I  always 
yearn  to  be  in  places  where  I  am  not.    I  live  here  in  a 

complete  solitude.    I  believe  you,  Marie " 

Charpentier's  note-book  only  contained  this  line,  which 
he  had  written  in  the  darkness  at  the  foot  of  the  barri- 
cade while  Denis  Dussoubs  was  speaking : — 

Admonet  et  magna  testatur  voce  per  umbras. 


CHAPTER  V. 

OTHER  DEEDS  OE  DARKNESS. 

Yvan  had  again  seen  Conneau.  He  corroborated  the 
information  given  in  the  letter  of  Alexandre  Dumas  to 
Bocage ;  with  the  fact  we  had  the  names.  On  the  3d  of 
December  at  M.  Abbatucci's  house,  31,  Rue  Caumartin,  in 
the  presence  of  Dr.  Conneau  and  of  Pietri,  a  Corsican, 
born  at  Vezzani,  named  Jacques  Francois  Criscelli,*  a  man 
attached  to  the  secret  and  personal  service  of  Louis  Bona- 
parte, had  received  from  Pietri's  own  mouth  the  offer  of 
25,000  francs  "to  take  or  kill  Victor  Hugo."  He  had 
accepted,  and  said,  "  That  is  all  very  well  if  I  am  alone. 
But  suppose  there  are  two  of  us  ?  " 

Pietri  had  answered, — 

«  Then  there  will  be  50,000  francs." 

This  communication,  accompanied  by  urgent  prayers, 
had  been  made  to  me  by  Yvan  in  the  Rue  de  Monthabor, 
while  we  were  still  at  Dupont  White's. 

This  said,  I  continue  my  story. 

The  massacre  of  the  4th  did  not  produce  the  whole  of 
its  effect  until  the  next  day,  the  5th.  The  impulse  given 
by  us  to  the  resistance  still  lasted  for  some  hours,  and  at 
nightfall,  in  the  labyrinth  of  houses  ranging  from  the 
Rue  du  Petit  Carreau  to  the  Rue  du  Temple,  there  was 
fighting.     The  Pagevin,  Neuve  Saint  Eustache,  Montor- 

*  It  was  this  same  Criscelli,  who  later  on  at  Vaugirard  in  the  Rue 
du  Trancy,  killed  by  special  order  of  the  Prefect  of  Police  a  man 
named  Kelch,  "  suspected  of  plotting  the  assassination  of  the  Em- 
peror." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  337 

gueil,  Rambuteau,  Beaubourg,  and  Transnonain  barricades 
were  gallantly  defended.  There,  there  was  an  impene- 
trable network  of  streets  and  crossways  barricaded  by 
the  People,  surrounded  by  the  Army. 

The  assault  was  merciless  and  furious. 

The  barricade  of  the  Rue  Montorgueil  was  one  of  those 
which  held  out  the  longest.  A  battalion  and  artillery 
was  needed  to  carry  it.  At  the  last  moment  it  was  only 
defended  by  three  men,  two  shop-clerks  and  a  lemonade- 
seller  of  an  adjoining  street.  When  the  assault  began 
the  night  was  densely  dark,  and  the  three  combatants 
escaped.  But  they  were  surrounded.  No  outlets.  Not 
one  door  was  open.  They  climbed  the  grated  gateway  of 
the  Passage  Verdeau  as  Jeanty  Sarre  and  Charpentier 
had  scaled  the  Passage  du  Saumon,  had  jumped  over, 
and  had  fled  down  the  Passage.  But  the  other  grated 
gateway  was  closed,  and  like  Jeanty  Sarre  and  Charpen- 
tier they  had  no  time  to  climb  it.  Besides,  they  heard  the 
soldiers  coming  on  both  sides.  In  a  corner  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  Passage  there  were  a  few  planks  which  had 
served  to  close  a  stall,  and  which  the  stall-keeper  was  in 
the  habit  of  putting  there.  They  hid  themselves  beneath 
these  planks. 

The  soldiers  who  had  taken  the  barricade,  after  having 
searched  the  streets,  bethought  themselves  of  searching 
the  Passage.  They  also  climbed  over  the  grated  gateway, 
looked  about  everywhere  with  lanterns,  and  found  nothing. 
They  were  going  away,  when  one  of  them  perceived  the 
foot  of  one  of  these  three  unfortunate  men  which  was 
projecting  from  beneath  the  planks. 

They  killed  all  three  of  them  on  the  spot  with  bayonet- 
thrusts.  They  cried  out,  "Kill  us  at  once!  Shoot  us! 
Bo  not  prolong  our  misery." 

The  neighboring  shop-keepers  heard  these  cries,  but 
dared  not  open  their  doors  or  their  windows,  for  fear,  as 
one  of  them  said  the  next  day,  "  that  they  should  do  the 
same  to  them." 

The  execution  at  an  end,  the  executioners  left  the  three 
victims  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood  on  the  pavement  of  the 
Passage.  One  of  these  unfortunate  men  did  not  die  until 
eight  o'clock  next  morning. 

No  one  had  dared  to  ask  for  mercy  ;  no  one  had  dared 
to  bring  any  help.     They  left  them  to  die  there. 
22 


338  E  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

One  of  the  combatants  of  the  Rue  Beaubourg  was  more 
fortunate.  They  were  pursuing  him.  He  rushed  up  a 
staircase,  reached  a  roof,  and  from  there  a  passage,  which 
proved  to  be  the  top  corridor  of  an  hotel.  A  key  was  in 
the  door.  He  opened  it  boldly,  and  found  himself  face  to 
face  with  a  man  who  was  going  to  bed.  It  was  a  tired- 
out  traveller  who  had  arrived  at  the  hotel  that  very  even- 
ing. The  fugitive  said  to  the  traveller,  "  I  am  lost,  save 
me ! "  and  explained  him  the  situation  in  three  words. 
The  traveller  said  to  him,  "  Undress  yourself,  and  get 
into  my  bed."  And  then  he  lit  a  cigar,  and  began  quietly 
to  smoke.  Just  as  the  man  of  the  barricade  had  got  into  ' 
bed  a  knock  came  at  the  door.  It  was  the  soldiers  who 
were  searching  the  house.  To  the  questions  which  they 
asked  him  the  traveller  answered,  pointing  to  the  bed, 
"  We  are  only  two  here.  We  have  just  arrived  here.  I 
am  smoking  my  cigar,  and  my  brother  is  asleep."  The 
waiter  was  questioned,  and  confirmed  the  traveller's 
statement.  The  soldiers  went  away,  and  no  one  was 
shot. 

We  will  say  this,  that  the  victorious  soldiers  killed  less 
than  on  the  preceding  day.  They  did  not  massacre  in  all 
the  captured  barricades.  The  order  had  been  given  on 
that  day  to  make  prisoners.  It  might  also  be  believed 
that  a  certain  humanity  existed.  What  was  this  human- 
ity? .We  shall  see. 

At  eleven  o'clock  at  night  all  was  at  an  end. 

They  arrested  all  those  whom  they  found  in  the  streets 
which  had  been  surrounded,  whether  combatants  or  not, 
they  had  all  the  wine-shops  and  the  cafes  opened,  they 
closely  searched  the  houses,  they  seized  all  the  men  whom 
they  could  find,  only  leaving  the  women  and  the  children. 
Two  regiments  formed  in  a  square  carried  away  all  these 
prisoners  huddled  together.  They  took  them  to  the 
Tuileries,  and  shut  them  up  in  the  vast  cellar  situated  be- 
neath the  terrace  at  the  waterside. 

On  entering  this  cellar  the  prisoners  felt  reassured. 
They  called  to  mind  that  in  June,  1848,  a  great  number 
of  insurgents  had  been  shut  up  there,  and  later  on  had 
been  transported.  They  said  to  themselves  that  doubt- 
less they  also  would  be  transported,  or  brought  before 
the  Councils  of  War,  and  that  they  had  plenty  of  time 
before  them. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  339 

They  were  thirsty.  Many  of  them  had  been  fighting 
since  that  morning,  and  nothing  parches  the  mouth  so 
much  as  biting  cartridges.  They  asked  for  drink.  Three 
pitchers  of  water  were  brought  to  them. 

A  sort  of  security  suddenly  fell  upon  them.  Amongst 
them  were  several  who  had  been  transported  in  June, 
1848,  and  who  had  already  been  in  that  cellar,  and  who 
said,  "  In  June  they  were  not  so  humane.  They  left  us 
for  three  days  without  food  or  drink."  Some  of  them 
wrapped  themselves  up  in  their  overcoats  or  cloaks,  lay 
down,  and  slept.  At  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  a  great 
noise  was  heard  outside.  Soldiers,  carrying  torches,  ap- 
peared in  the  cellars,  the  prisoners  who  were  sleeping 
woke  with  a  start,  an  officer  ordered  them  to  get  up. 

They  made  them  go  out  anyhow  as  they  had  come  in. 
As  they  went  out  they  coupled  them  two  by  two  at  ran- 
dom, and  a  sergeant  counted  them  in  a  loud  voice.  They 
asked  neither  their  names,  nor  their  professions,  nor  their 
families,  nor  who  they  were,  nor  whence  they  came; 
they  contented  themselves  with  the  numbers.  The 
numbers  sufficed  for  what  they  were  about  to  do. 

In  this  manner  they  counted  337.  The  counting  hav- 
ing come  to  an  end,  they  ranged  them  in  close  columns, 
still  two  by  two  and  arm-in-arm.  They  were  not  tied  to- 
gether, but  on  each  side  of  the  column,  on  the  right  and 
on  the  left,  there  were  three  files  of  soldiers  keeping  them 
within  their  ranks,  with  guns  loaded  ;  a  battalion  was  at 
their  head,  a  battalion  in  their  rear.  They  began  to 
march,  pressed  together  and  enclosed  in  this  moving 
frame  of  bayonets. 

At  the  moment  when  the  column  set  forward,  a  young 
law-student,  a  fair  pale  Alsatian,  of  some  twenty  years, 
who  was  in  their  ranks,  asked  a  captain,  who  was  march- 
ing by  him  with  his  sword  drawn, — 

"  Where  are  we  going  ?  " 

The  officer  made  no  reply. 

Having  left  the  Tuileries,  they  turned  to  the  right,  and 
followed  the  quay  as  far  as  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde. 
They  crossed  the  Pont  de  la  Concorde,  and  again  turned 
to  the  right.  In  this  manner  they  passed  before  the 
esplanade  of  the  Invalides,  and  reached  the  lonely  quay 
of  Gros-Caillou. 

As  we  have  just  said,  they  numbered  337,  and  as  they 


340  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

walked  two  by  two,  there  was  one,  the  last,  who  walked 
alone.  He  was  one  of  the  most  daring  combatants  of  the 
Hue  Pagevin,  a  friend  of  Lecomte  the  younger.  By  chance 
the  sergeant,  who  was  posted  in  the  inner  file  by  his  side, 
was  a  native  of  the  same  province.  On  passing  under  a 
street-lamp  they  recognized  each  other.  They  exchanged 
quickly  a  few  words  in  a  whisper. 

"  Where  are  we  going?"  asked  the  prisoner. 

"  To  the  military  school,"  answered  the  sergeant.  And 
he  added,  "  Ah !  my  poor  lad  !  " 

And  then  he  kept  at  a  distance  from  the  prisoner. 

As  this  was  the  end  of  the  column,  there  was  a  certain 
space  between  the  last  rank  of  the  soldiers  who  formed 
the  line,  and  the  first  rank  of  the  company  which  closed 
the  procession*. 

As  they  reached  the  lonely  boulevard  of  Gros-Caillou, 
of  which  we  have  just  spoken,  the  sergeant  drew  near  to 
the  prisoner,  and  said  to  him  in  a  rapid  and  low  tone, — ■ 

"  One  can  hardly  see  here.  It  is  a  dark  spot.  On  the 
left  there  are  trees.     Be  off  !  " 

"  But,"  said  the  prisoner,  "  they  will  fire  at  me." 

"  They  will  miss  you." 

"  But  suppose  they  kill  me  ?  " 

"  It  will  be  no  worse  than  what  awaits  you." 

The  prisoner  understood,  shook  the  sergeant's  hand, 
and  taking  advantage  of  the  space  between  the  line  of 
soldiers  and  rear-ground,  rushed  witli  a  single  bound 
outside  the  column,  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness 
beneath  the  trees. 

"  A  man  is  escaping !  "  cried  out  the  officer  who  com- 
manded the  last  company.     "  Halt !     Fire ! " 

The  column  halted.  The  rear-guard  company  fired  at 
random  in  the  direction  taken  by  the  fugitive,  and,  as  the 
sergeant  had  foreseen,  missed  him.  In  a  few  moments 
the  fugitive  had  reached  the  streets  adjoining  the  tobacco 
manufactory,  and  had  plunged  into  them.  They  did  not 
pursue  him.     They  had  more  pressing  work  on  hand. 

Besides,  confusion  might  have  arisen  in  their  ranks, 
and  to  recapture  one  they  risked  letting  the  336  escape. 

The  column  continued  its  march.  Having  reached  the 
Pont  d'lena,  they  turned  to  the  left,  and  entered  into  the 
Champ  de  Mars. 

There  they  shot  them  all. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  341 

These  336  corpses  were  amongst  those  which  were 
carried  to  Montmartre  Cemetery,  and  which  were  buried 
there  with  their  heads  exposed. 

In  this  manner  their  families  were  enabled  to  recognize 
them.  The  Government  learned  who  they  were  after 
killing  them. 

Amongst  these  330  victims  were  a  large  number  of  the 
combatants  of  the  line  Pagevin  and  the  Rue  Rambuteau, 
of  the  Rue  Neuve  Saint  Eustache  and  the  Porte  Saint 
Denis.  There  were  also  100  passers-by,  whom  they  had 
arrested  because  they  happened  to  be  there,  and  without 
any  particular  reason. 

Besides,  we  will  at  once  mention  that  the  wholesale 
executions  from  the  3d  inst.  were  renewed  nearly  every 
night.  Sometimes  at  the  Champ  de  Mars,  sometimes  at 
the  Prefecture  of  Police,  sometimes  at  both  places  at  once. 

When  the  prisons  were  full,  M.  de  Maupas  said 
"Shoot!"  The  fusilades  at  the  Prefecture  took  place 
sometimes  in  the  courtyard,  sometimes  in  the  Rue  de 
Jerusalem.  The  unfortunate  people  whom  they  shot 
were  placed  against  the  wall  which  bears  the  theatrical 
notices.  They  had  chosen  this  spot  because  it  is  close  by 
the  sewer-grating  of  the  gutter,  so  that  the  blood  would 
run  down  at  once,  and  would  leave  fewer  traces.  On 
Friday,  the  5th,  they  shot  near  this  gutter  of  the  Rue  de 
Jerusalem  150  prisoners.  Some  one  *  said  to  me,  "  On  the 
next  day  I  passed  by  there,  they  showed  me  the  spot;  I 
dug  between  the  paving-stones  with  the  toe  of  my  boot, 
and  I  stirred  up  the  mud.     I  found  blood." 

This  expression  forms  the  whole  history  of  the  coup 
d'etat,  and  will  form  the  whole  history  of  Louis  Bona- 
parte.    Stir  up  this  mud,  you  will  find  blood. 

Let  this  then  be  known  to  History  : — 

The  massacre  of  the  boulevard  had  this  infamous  con- 
tinuation, the  secret  executions.  The  coup  cVetat  after 
having  been  ferocious  became  mysterious.  It  passed  from 
impudent  murder  in  broad  day  to  hidden  murder  at  night. 

Evidence  abounds. 

Esquiros,  hidden  in  the  Gros-Caillou,  heard  the  fusil- 
ades on  the  Champ  de  Mars  every  night. 

At  Mazas,  Chambolle,  on  the  second  night  of  his  incar- 

1  The  Marquis  Sarrazin  de   Montferrier,  a  relative  of  my  eldest 
brother.      I  can  now  mention  his  name. 


342  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

ceration,  heard  from  midnight  till  five  o'clock  in  the  moil- 
ing, such  volleys  that  he  thought  the  prison  was  attacked. 

Like  Montferrier,  Desmoulins  bore  evidence  to  blood 
between  the  paving-stones  of  the  Pue  de  Jerusalem. 

Lien  tenant-Colonel  Caillaud,  of  the  ex-Republican  Guard, 
is  crossing  the  Pont  Neuf  ;  he  sees  some  sergents  de  ville 
with  muskets  to  their  shoulders,  aiming  at  the  passers- 
by  ;  he  says  to  them,  "  You  dishonor  the  uniform."  They 
arrest  him.  They  search  him.  A  sergent  de  ville  says  to 
him,  "  If  we  find  a  cartridge  upon  you,  we  shall  shoot  you." 
They  find  nothing.  They  take  him  to  the  Prefecture 
of  Police,  they  shut  him  up  in  the  station-house.  The 
director  of  the  station-house  comes  and  says  to  him, 
"  Colonel,  I  know  you  well.  Do  not  complain  of  being 
here.  You  are  confided  to  my  care.  Congratulate  your- 
self on  it.  Look  here,  I  am  one  of  the  family,  I  go  and 
I  come,  I  see,  I  listen  ;  I  know  what  is  going  on  ;  I  know 
what  is  said  ;  I  divine  what  is  not  said.  I  hear  certain 
noises  during  the  night ;  I  see  certain  traces  in  the  morn- 
ing. As  for  myself  I  am  not  a  bad  fellow.  I  am  taking 
care  of  you.  I  am  keeping  you  out  of  the  way.  At  the 
present  moment  be  contented  to  remain  with  me.  If  you 
were  not  here  you  would  be  underground." 

An  ex-magistrate,  General  Leflo's  brother-in-law,  is 
conversing  on  the  Pont  dela  Concorde  with  some  officers 
before  the  steps  of  the  Chamber  ;  some  policemen  come 
up  to  him  :  "  You  are  tampering  with  the  army."  He 
protests,  they  throw  him  into  a  vehicle,  and  they  take 
him  to  the  Prefecture  of  Police.  As  he  arrives  there  he 
sees  a  young  man,  in  a  blouse  and  a  cap,  passing  on  the 
quay,  who  is  being  shoved  along  by  three  municipal  guards 
with  the  butt-ends  of  their  muskets.  At  an  opening  of 
the  parapet,  a  guard  shouts  to  him,  "  Go  in  there."  The 
man  goes  in.  Two  guards  shoot  him  in  the  back.  He  falls. 
The  third  guard  despatches  him  with  a  shot  in  his  ear. 

On  the  13th  the  massacres  were  not  yet  at  an  end.  On 
the  morning  of  that  day,  in  the  dim  light  of  the  dawn,  a 
solitary  passer-by,  going  along  the  Pue  Saint  Honore,  saw, 
between  two  lines  of  horse-soldiers,  three  wagons  wend- 
ing their  way,  heavily  loaded.  These  wagons  could  be 
traced  by  the  stains  of  blood  which  dripped  from  them. 
They  came  from  the  Champ  de  Mars,  and  were  going 
to  the  Montmartre  Cemetery.    They  were  full  of  corpses. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  (J RIME.  3^3 

CHAPTER  VI. 

TIIE    CONSULTATIVE    COMMITTEE. 

All  danger  being  over,  all  scruples  vanished.  Prudent 
and  wise  people  could  now  give  their  adherence  to  the 
coup  cVetat,  they  allowed  their  names  to  be  posted  up. 

Here  is  the  placard  : 

«  FRENCH  REPUBLIC. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  French  People. 

"  The  President  of  the  Republic, 

"  Wishing,  until  the  reorganization  of  the  Legislative 
Body  and  the  Council  of  State,  to  be  surrounded  by  men 
who  justly  possess  the  esteem  and  the  confidence  of  the 
country, 

"  Has  created  a  Consultative  committee,  which  is  com- 
posed of  MM. — 

Abbatucci,  ex-Councillor  of  the  Court  of  Cassation 
(of  the  Loiret). 

General  Achard  (of  the  Moselle). 

Andre,  Ernest  (of  the  Seine). 

Andre  (of  the  Charente). 

D'Argout,  Governor  of  the  Bank,  ex-Minister. 

General  Arrighiof  Padua  (of  Corsica). 

General  de  Bar  (of  the  Seine). 

General  Baraguay-d'Hilliers  (of  Doubs). 

Barbaroux,  ex-Procureur-General  (of  the  Reunion). 

Baroche,  ex-Minister  of  the  Interior  and  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  Vice-President  of  the  Committee  (of  the  Charente- 
Inferieure). 

Barrot  (Ferdinand),  ex-Minister  (of  the  Seine). 

Barthe,  ex-Minister,  first  President  (of  the  Cour  de 
Comptes). 

Bataille  (of  the  ILiute-Vienne). 

Bavoux  (Evariste)  (of  the  Seine-et-Marne). 

De  Beaumont  (of  the  Somme). 

Berard  (of  the  Lot-et-Garonne). 


344  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Berger,  Prefect  of  the  Seine  (of  Puy-de-D6me). 

Bertrand  (of  the  Yonne). 

Bidault  (of  the  Cher). 

Bigrel  (of  the  C6tes-du-Nord). 

Billault,  barrister. 

Bineau,  ex-Minister  (of  the  Maine-et-Loire). 

Boinvilliers,  ex-President  of  the  body  of  barristers  (of 
the  Seine). 

Bonjean,  Attorney-General  of  the  Court  of  Cassation  (of 
the  Drome). 

Boulatignier. 

Bourbousson  (of  Vaucluse). 

Brehier  (of  the  Manche). 

De  Cambaceres  (Hubert). 

De  Cambaceres  (of  the  Aisne). 

Carlier,  ex-Prefect  of  Police. 

De  Casabianca,  ex-Minister  (of  Corsica). 

General  de  Castellane,  Commander-in-Chief  at  Lyons. 

De  Caulaincourt  (of  Calvados). 

Vice- Admiral  Cecile  (of  the  Seine-Inferieure). 

Chadenet  (of  the  Meuse). 

Charlemagne  (of  the  Indre). 

Chassaigne-Goyon  (of  Puy  de  Dome). 

General  de  Chasseloup-Laubat  (of  the  Seine-Inferieure). 

Prosper  de  Chasseloup-Laubat  (Charente-Inferieure). 

Chaix  d'Est-Ange,  Barrister  of  Paris  (of  the  Marne). 

De  Chazelles,  Mayor  of  Clermont-Ferrand  (of  Puy-de- 
D6me). 

Collas  (of  the  Gironde). 

De  Crouseilhes,  ex-Councillor  of  the  Court  of  Cassation, 
ex- Minister  (of  the  Basses-Pyrenees). 

Curial  (of  the  Orne). 

De  Cuverville  (of  the  C6tes-du-Nord). 

Dabeaux(of  the  Ilaute-Garonne). 

Dariste  (of  the  Basses-Pyrenees). 

Daviel,  ex-Minister. 

Delacoste,  ex-Commissary-General  (of  the  Rhone). 

Delajus  (of  the  Charente-Inferieure). 

Delavau  (of  the  Indre). 

Deltheil  (of  the  Lot). 

Denjoy  (of  the  Gironde). 

Desjobert  (of  the  Seine-Inferieure). 

Desmaroux  (of  the  Allier). 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  345 

Drouyn  de  Lhuys,  ex-Minister  (of  the  Seine-et-Marne). 

Theodore  Ducos,  Minister  of  the  Marine  and  of  the  Col- 
onies (of  the  Seine). 

Dumas  (of  the  Institut)  ex-Minister  (of  the  Nord). 

Charles  Dupin,  of  the  Institut  (of  the  Seine-Inferieure). 

General  Durrieu  (of  the  Landes). 

Maurice  Duval,  ex-Prefect. 

Eschasseriaux  (of  the  Charente-Inferieure). 

Marshal  Excelmans,  Grand  Chancellor  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor. 

Ferdinand  Favre  (of  the  Loire-Inferieure). 

General  de  Flahaut,  ex- Ambassador. 

Fortoul,  Minister  of  Public  Instruction  (of  the  Basses- 
Alpes). 

Achille  Fould,  Minister  of  Finance  (of  the  Seine). 

De  Fourment  (of  the  Somme). 

Fouquier-d'Herouel  (of  the  Aisne). 

Fremy  (of  the  Yonne). 

Furtado  (of  the  Seine). 

Gasc  (of  the  Haute  Garonne). 

Gaslonde  (of  the  Manche). 

De  Gasparin  (ex-Minister). 

Ernest  de  Girardin  (of  the  Charente). 

Augustin  Giraud  (of  Maine-et-Loire). 

Charles  Giraud,  of  the  Institut,  member  of  the  Council 
of  Public  Instruction,  ex-Minister. 

Godelle  (of  the  Aisne). 

Goulhot  de  Saint-Germain  (of  the  Manche). 

General  de  Grammont  (of  the  Loire). 

De  Grammont  (of  the  IIaute-Sa6ne). 

De  Greslan  (of  the  Reunion). 

General  de  Grouchy  (of  the  Gironde). 

Hallez  Claparede  (of  the  Bas-Rhin). 

General  d'llautpoul,  ex-Minister  (of  the  Aude). 

Ilebert  (of  the  Aisne). 

De  Heeckeren  (of  the  Ilaut-Rhin). 

D'llerembault  (of  the  Pas-de-Calais). 

Hermann. 

Heurtier  (of  the  Loire). 

General  Husson  (of  the  Aube). 

Janvier  (of  the  Tarn-et-Garonne). 

Lacaze  (of  the  Hautes-Pyrenees). 

Lacrosse,  ex-Minister  (of  Finistore). 


34G  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Ladoucette  (of  the  Moselle). 

Frederic  de  Lagrange  (of  the  Gers). 

De  Lagrange  (of  the  Gironde). 

General  de  La  Hitte,  ex-Minister. 

Delangle,  ex- Attorney -General. 

Lanquetin,  President  of  the  Municipal  Commission. 

De  la  Riboissiere  (of  Ille-et-Vilaine). 

General  Lawcestine. 

Lebeuf  (of  the  Seine-et-Marne). 

General  Lebreton  (of  the  Eure-et-Loir). 

Le  Comte  (of  the  Yonne). 

Le  Conte  (of  the  C6tes-du-Nord). 

Lefebvre-Durufle,  Minister  of  Commerce  (of  the  Eure). 

Lelut  (of  the  Haute-Saone). 

Lemarois  (of  the  Manche). 

Lemercier  (of  the  Charente). 

Leqnien  (of  the  Pas-de-Calais). 

Lestiboudois  (of  the  Nord). 

Levavasseur  (of  the  Seine-Inferieure). 

Le  Verrier  (of  the  Manche). 

Lezay  de  Marnesia  (of  Loir-et-Cher). 

General  Magnan,  Commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of 
Paris. 

Magne,  Minister  of  Public  Works  (of  the  Dordogne). 

Edmond  Maigne  (of  the  Dordogne). 

Mar  chant  (of  the  Nord). 

Mathieu  Bodet,  Barrister  at  the  Court  of  Cassation. 

De  Maupas,  Prefect  of  Police. 

De  Merode  (of  the  Nord). 

Mesnard,  President  of  the  Chamber  of  the  Court  of 
Cassation. 

Meynadier,  ex-Prefect  (of  the  Lozere). 

De  Montalembert  (of  the  Doubs). 

De  Morny  (of  the  1  uy-de-D6me). 

De  Mortemart  (of  the  Seine-Inferieure). 

De  Mouchy  (of  the  Oise). 

De  Moustiers  (of  the  Doubs). 

Lucien  Murat  (of  the  Lot). 

General  d'Ornano  (of  the  Indre-et-Loire). 

Pepin  Lehalleur  (of  the  Seine-et-Marne). 

Joseph  Perier,  Governor  of  the  Bank. 

De  Persigny  (of  the  Nord). 

Pichon,  Mayor  of  Arras  (of  the  Pas  de  Calais). 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  347 

Portalis,  First  President  of  the  Court  of  Cassation. 

Pongerard,  Mayor  of  Rennes  (of  the  Ille-et-Vilaine). 

General  de  Preval. 

De  Ranee  (of  Algeria). 

General    Randon,    ex-Minister,    Governor-General    of 
Algeria. 

General  Regnauld  de  Saint-Jean-d'Angely,  ex-Minister 
(of  the  Charente-Inferieure). 

Renouard  de  Bussiere  (of  the  Bas-Rhin). 

Renouard  (of  the  Lozere). 

General  Roge. 

Rouher,  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  Minister  of  Justice  (of  the 
Puy-de-D6me). 

De  Royer,  ex-Minister,  Attorney-General  at  the  Court 
of  Appeal  of  Paris. 

General  de  Saint-Arnaud,  Minister  of  War. 

De  Saint-Arnaud,  Barrister  at  the  Court  of  Appeal  of 
paris. 

De  Salis  (of  the  Moselle). 

Sapey  (of  the  Isere). 

Schneider,  ex-Minister. 

De  Segur  d'Aguesseau  (of  the  Hautes-Pyrenees). 

Seydoux  (of  the  Nord). 

Amedee  Thayer. 

Thieullen  (of  the  C6tes-du-Nord). 

De  Thorigny,  ex-Minister. 

Toupot  de  Beveaux  (of  the  Haute-Marne). 

Tourangin,  ex-Prefect. 

Troplong,  First  President  of  the  Court  of  Appeal. 

De  Turgot,  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs. 

Vaillant,  Marshal  of  France. 

Va'isse,  ex-Minister  (of  the  Nord). 

De  Vandeul  (of  the  Haute-Marne). 

General  Vast-Yiraeux  (of  the  Charente-Inferieure). 

Vauchelle,  Mayor  of  Versailles. 

Viard  (of  the  Meurthe). 

Vieillard  (of  the  Manche). 

Vuillefroy. 

Vuitry,  Under-Secretary  of   State  at  the  Ministry  of 
Finance  De  Wagram. 

"  The  President  of  the  Republic, 

'•Louis  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 
"  Minister  of  the  Interior,  De  Mobny." 


348  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

The  name  of  Bourbousson  is  found  on  this  list. 
It  would  be  a  pity  if  this  name  were  lost. 
At  the  same  time  as  this  placard  appeared  the  protest 
of  M.  Daru,  as  follows  : — 

"  I  approve  of  the  proceedings  of  the  National  Assem- 
bly at  the  Mairie  of  the  Tenth  Arrondissement  on  the  2d 
of  December,  1851,  in  which  I  was  hindered  from  par- 
ticipating by  force. 

"  Daku." 

Some  of  these  members  of  the  Consultative  Committee 
came  from  Mazas  or  from  Mount  Valerien.  They  had 
been  detained  in  a  cell  for  four-and-twenty  hours,  and  then 
released.  It  may  be  seen  that  these  legislators  bore  little 
malice  to  the  man  who  had  made  them  undergo  this  dis- 
agreeable taste  of  the  law. 

Many  of  the  personages  comprised  in  this  menagerie 
possessed  no  other  renown  but  the  outcry  caused  by  their 
debts,  clamoring  around  them.  Such  a  one  had  been 
twice  declared  bankrupt,  but  this  extenuating  circum- 
stance was  added,  "  not  under  his  own  name."  Another 
who  belonged  to  a  literary  or  scientific  circle  was  reputed 
to  have  sold  his  vote.  A  third,  who  was  handsome,  elegant, 
fashionable,  dandified,  polished,  gilded,  embroidered,  owed 
his  prosperity  to  a  connection  which  indicated  a  filthiness 
of  soul. 

Such  people  as  these  gave  their  adherence  with  little 
hesitation  to  the  deed  which  "  saved  society." 

Some  others,  amongst  those  who  composed  this  mosaic, 
possessed  no  political  enthusiasm,  and  merely  consented 
to  figure  in  this  list  in  order  to  keep  their  situations  and 
their  salaries;  they  were  under  the  Empire  what  they 
had  been  before  the  Empire,  neuters,  and  during  the 
nineteen  years  of  the  reign,  they  continued  to  exercise 
their  military,  judicial,  or  administrative  functions  un- 
obtrusively, surrounded  with  the  right  and  proper  respect 
due  to  inoffensive  idiots. 

Others  were  genuine  politicians,  belonging  to  that 
learned  school  which  begins  with  Guizot,  and  does  not 
finish  with  Parieu,  grave  physicians  of  social  order,  who 
reassure  the  frightened  middle-classes,  and  who  pre- 
serve dead  tilings. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  349 

"Shall  I  lose  my  eye  ?,"  asked  Messer  Pancrace  : 
"  Not  at  all,  my  friend,  I  hold  it  in  my  hand." 

In  this  quasi  Council  of  State  there  were  a  goodly 
number  of  men  of  the  Police,  a  race  of  beings  then  held 
in  esteem,  Carlier,  Pietri,  Maupas,  etc. 

Shortly  after  the  2d  of  December  under  the  title  of 
Mixed  Commissions,  the  police  substituted  itself  for  jus- 
tice, drew  up  judgments,  pronounced  sentences,  violated 
every  law  judicially  without  the  regular  magistracy  in- 
terposing the  slightest  obstacle  to  this  irregular  magis- 
tracy :  Justice  allowed  the  police  to  do  what  it  liked  with 
the  satisfied  look  of  a  team  of  horses  which  had  just  been 
relieved. 

Some  of  the  men  inscribed  on  the  list  of  this  commission 
refused :  Leon  Faucher  Goulard,  Mortemart,  Frederic 
Granier,  Marchand,  Maillard  Paravay,  Beugnot.  The  news- 
papers received  orders  not  to  publish  these  refusals. 

M.  Beugnot  inscribed  on  his  card :  "  Count  Beugnot, 
who  does  not  belong  to  the  Consultative  Committee." 

M.  Joseph  Perier  went  from  corner  to  corner  of  the 
streets,  pencil  in  hand,  scratching  out  his  name  from  all 
the  placards,  saying,  "  I  shall  take  back  my  name  wherever 
I  find  it." 

General  Paraguay  d'Hilliers  did  not  refuse.  A  brave 
soldier  nevertheless  ;  he  had  lost  an  arm  in  the  Russian 
war.  Later  on,  he  has  been  Marshal  of  France;  he 
deserved  better  than  to  have  been  created  a  Marshal  by 
Louis  Bonaparte.  It  did  not  appear  likely  that  he  would 
have  come  to  this.  During  the  last  days  of  November 
General  Baraguay  d'Hilliers,  seated  in  a  large  arm-chair 
before  the  high  fireplace  of  the  Conference  Hall  of  the 
National  Assembly,  was  warming  himself ;  some  one,  one 
of  his  colleagues,  he  who  is  writing  these  lines,  sat  down 
near  him  on  the  other  side  of  the  fireplace.  They  did  not 
speak  to  each  other,  one  belonging  to  the  Bight,  the  other 
to  the  Left ;  but  M.  Piscatory  came  in,  who  belonged  a 
little  to  the  Right  and  a  little  to  the  Left,  he  addressed 
himself  to  Baraguay  d'Hilliers:  "  Well,  general,  do  you 
know  what  they  are  saying  ?  " 

«  What?" 

"That  one  of  these  days  the  President  will  shut  the 
door  in  our  faces." 


350  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

General  Baraguay  d'Hilliers  answered,  and  I  heard  the 
answer, — "  If  M.  Bonaparte  should  close  the  door  of  the 
Assembly  against  us,  France  will  fling  it  wide  open 
again." 

Louis  Bonaparte  at  one  moment  thought  of  entitling 
this  committee  the  "  Executive  Commission."  "  No,"  said 
Morny  to  him,  "  that  would  be  to  credit  them  with  cour- 
age. They  will  willingly  be  supporters ;  they  will  not  be 
proscribers." 

General  Rulhiere  was  dismissed  for  having  blamed  the 
passive  obedience  of  the  army. 

Let  us  here  mention  an  incident.  Some  days  after  the 
4th  of  December,  Emmanuel  Arago  met  M.  Dupin,  who 
was  going  up  the  Faubourg  Saint  Ilonore. 

"  What !  "  said  Arago,  "  are  you  going  to  the  Elysee?" 

M.  Dupin  answered,  "  I  never  go  to  disreputable  houses." 

Yet  he  went  there. 

M.  Dupin,  it  may  be  remembered,  was  appointed 
Attorney-General  at  the  Court  of  Cassation. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

TIIE   OTHER   LIST. 

Opposite  to  the  list  of  adherents  should  be  placed  the 
list  of  the  proscribed.  In  this  manner  the  two  sides  of 
the  coup  tVetat  can  be  seen  at  a  glance. 

"  Decree. 

"  Article  I. — The  ex-Representatives  of  the  Assembly, 
whose  names  are  found  beneath,  are  expelled  from  French 
territory,  from  Algeria,  and  from  the  Colonies,  for  the 
sake  of  public  safety  : — 

Edmond  Valentine.  Charrassin. 

Paul  Racoucliot.  Bandsept. 

Agricol  Perdiguier.  Savoye. 

Eugene  Cholat.  Joly. 

Louis  Latrade.  Combier. 

Michel  Renaud.  Boysset. 
Joseph  Benoist  (du  Rhone).       Duche. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 


351 


Joseph  Burgard. 

Jean  Colfavru. 

Joseph  Faure  (du  Rhone). 

Pierre-Charles  Gambon. 

Charles  Lagrange. 

Martin  Nadaud. 

Barthelemy  Terrier. 

Victor  Hugo. 

Cassal. 

Signard. 

Viguier. 

Esquiros. 

Madier  de  Montjau. 

Noel  Parfait. 

Emile  Pean. 

Pelletier. 

Raspail. 

Theodore  Bac. 

Bancel. 

Belin  (Drome). 

Besse. 

Bourzat. 

Brive. 

Chavoix. 

Clement  Dulac. 

Dupont  (de  Bussac.) 


Ennery. 
Guilgot. 
Hochstuhl. 

Michot  Boutet. 

Baune. 

Bertholon. 

Schoelcher. 

De  Flotte. 

Joigneaux. 

Laboulaye. 

Bruys. 

Gaston  Dussoubs. 

Guiter 

Lafon. 

Lamarque. 

Pierre  Le  franc. 

Jules  Leroux. 

Francisque  Maigne. 

Malardier. 

Mathieu  (de  la  Drome). 

Millotte. 

Roselli-Mollet. 

Charras. 

Saint-Ferreol. 

Sommier. 

Testelin  (Nord). 


"Article  II. — In  the  event,  contrary  to  the  present 
decree,  of  one  of  the  persons  named  in  Article  I.  re-entering 
the  prohibited  limits,  he  may  be  transported  for  the  sake 
of  public  safety. 

"Given  at  the  Palace  of  the  Tuileries,  at  the  Cabinet 
Council  assembled,  Jaunary  9th,  1852. 

"Louis  Bonaparte. 
"  De  Morxy,  Minister  of  the  Interior." 

There  was  besides  a  list  of  the  "  provisionally  exiled," 
on  which  figured  Edward  Quinet,  Victor  Chauffour,  Gen- 
eral Laidet,  Pascal  Duprat,  Versigny,  Antony  Thouret, 
Thiers,  Girardin,  and  Remusat.  Pour  Representatives, 
Mathe,  Greppo,  Marc-Dufraisse,  and  Richardet,  were  added 
to  the  list  of  the  "expelled."  Representative  Miot  was 
reserved  for  the  tortures  of  the  casemates  of  Africa.     Thus 


352  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

in  addition  to  the  massacres,  the  victory  of  the  coup  d'etat 
was  paid  for  by  these  figures :  eighty-eight  Represent- 
atives proscribed,  one  killed. 

I  usually  dined  at  Brussels  in  a  cafe,  called  the  Cafe  des 
Mille  Colonnes,  which  was  frequented  by  the  exiles.  On 
the  10th  of  January  I  had  invited  Michel  de  Bourges  to 
lunch,  and  we  were  sitting  at  the  same  table.  The  waiter 
brought  me  the  Moniteur  Fran$ais  ;  I  glanced  over  it. 

"  Ah,"  said  I,  "  here  is  the  list  of  the  proscribed."  I 
ran  my  eye  over  it,  and  I  said  to  Michel  de  Bourges,  "  I 
have  a  piece  of  bad  news  to  tell  you."  Michel  de  Bourges 
turned  pale.  I  added,  "You  are  not  on  the  list."  His 
face  brightened. 

Michel  de  Bourges,  so  dauntless  in  the  face  of  death, 
was  faint-hearted  in  the  face  of  exile. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DAVID  d'aXGERS. 

Brutalities  and  ferocities  were  mingled  together.  The 
great  sculptor,  David  d' Angers,  was  arrested  in  his  own 
house,  16,  Rue  d'Assas;  the  Commissary  of  Police  on 
entering,  said  to  him,— 

"  Have  you  any  arms  in  your  house  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  David,  "  for  my  defence." 

And  he  added, — 

"  If  I  had  to  deal  with  civilized  people." 

"  Where  are  these  arms  ?  "  rejoined  the  Commissary, 
"  Let  us  see  them." 

David  showed  him  his  studio  full  of  masterpieces. 

They  placed  him  in  i\  fiacre,  and  drove  him  to  the  station- 
house  of  the  Prefecture  of  Police. 

Although  there  was  only  space  for  120  prisoners,  there 
were  700  there.  David  was  the  twelfth  in  a  dungeon  in- 
tended for  two.  No  light  nor  air.  A  narrow  ventilation 
hole  above  their  heads.  A  dreadful  tub  in  a  corner,  com- 
mon to  all,  covered  but  not  closed  by  a  wooden  lid. 
At  noon  they  brought  them  soup,  a  sort  of  warm  and 
stinking  water,  David  told  me.  They  stood  leaning 
against  the  wall,  and  trampled  upon  the  mattresses  which 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  353 

had  been  thrown  on  the  floor,  not  having  room  to  lie  down 
on  them.  At  length,  however,  they  pressed  so  closely  to 
each  other,  that  they  succeeded  in  lying  down  at  full 
length.  Their  jailers  had  thrown  them  some  blankets. 
Some  of  them  slept.  At  day  break  the  bolts  creaked,  the 
door  was  half-opened  and  the  jailers  cried  out  to  them, 
"  Get  up  ! "  They  went  into  the  adjoining  corridor,  the 
jailer  took  up  the  mattresses,  threw  a  few  buckets  of 
water  on  the  floor,  wiped  it  up  anyhow,  replaced  the  mat- 
tresses on  the  damp  stones,  and  said  to  them,  "  Go  back 
again."  They  locked  them  up  until  the  next  morning. 
From  time  to  time  they  brought  in  100  new  prisoners,  and 
they  fetched  away  100  old  ones  (those  who  had  been  there 
for  two  or  three  days).  What  became  of  them  ? — At  night 
the  prisoners  could  hear  from  their  dungeon  the  sound  of 
explosions,  and  in  the  morning  passers-by  could  see,  as 
we  have  stated,  pools  of  blood  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
Prefecture. 

The  calling  over  of  those  who  went  out  was  conducted 
in  alphabetical  order. 

One  day  they  called  David  d' Angers.  David  took  up 
his  packet,  and  was  getting  ready  to  leave,  when  the 
governor  of  the  jail,  who  seemed  to  be  keeping  watch 
over  him,  suddenly  came  up  and  said  quickly,  "  Stay,  M. 
David,  stay." 

One  morning  he  saw  Buchez,  the,  ex-President  of  the 
Constituent  Assembly,  coming  into  his  cell — "  Ah  !  "  said 
David, "  good  !  you  have  come  to  visit  the  prisoners  ?  " — "  I 
am  a  prisoner,"  said  Buchez. 

They  wished  to  insist  on  David  leaving  for  America. 
He  refused.  They  contented  themselves  with  Belgium. 
On  the  19th  December  he  reached  Brussels.  He  came  to 
see  me,  and  said  to  me,  "  I  am  lodging  at  the  Grand  Mon- 
arque,  89,  Rue  des  Fripiers."  *  And  he  added  laughing, 
"  The  Great  Monarch — the  King.  The  old  clothesmen — 
the  loyalists,  '89.  The  Revolution."  Chance  occasionally 
furnishes  some  wit. 

*  Awjliw"  old  clothes  men." 
23 


354  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

0UK    LAST    MEETING. 

On  the  3d  of  December  everything  was  coming  in  in 
our  favor.  On  the  5th  everything  was  receding  from  us. 
It  was  like  a. mighty  sea  which  was  going  out.  The  tide 
had  come  in  gloriously,  it  went  out  disastrously.  Gloomy 
ebb  and  flow  of  the  people. 

And  who  was  the  power  who  said  to  this  ocean,  "  Thou 
shalt  go  no  farther  ?"     Alas  !  a  pigmy. 

These  hiding-places  of  the  abyss  are  fathomless. 

The  abyss  is  afraid.     Of  what? 

Of  something  deeper  than  itself.     Of  the  Crime. 

The  people  drew  back.  They  drew  back  on  the  5th ; 
on  the  6th  they  disappeared. 

On  the  horizon  there  could  be  seen  nothing  but  the 
beginning  of  a  species  of  vast  night. 

This  night  has  been  the  Empire. 

We  found  ourselves  on  the  5th  what  we  were  on  the 
2d.     Alone. 

But  we  persevered.  Our  mental  condition  was  this — 
desperate,  yes  ;  discouraged,  no. 

Items  of  bad  news  came  to  us  as  good  news  had  come 
to  us  on  the  evening  of  the  3d,  one  after  another.  Aubry 
du  Nord  was  at  the  Conciergerie.  Our  dear  and  eloquent 
Cremieux  was  at  Mazas.  Louis  Blanc,  who,  although 
banished,  was  coming  to  the  assistance  of  France,  and 
was  bringing  to  us  the  great  power  of  his  name  and  of 
his  mind,  had  been  compelled,  like  Ledru  Rollin,  to  halt 
before  the  catastrophe  of  the  4th.  He  had  not  been  able 
to  get  beyond  Tournay. 

As  for  General  Neumayer,  he  had  not  "  marched  upon 
Paris,"  but  he  had  come  there.  For  what  purpose?  To 
give  in  his  submission. 

We  no  longer  possessed  a  refuge.  No.  15,  Rue  Riche- 
lieu, was  watched,  No.  11,  Rue  Monthabor,  had  been  de- 
nounced. We  wandered  about  Paris,  meeting  each  other 
here  and  there,  and  exchanging  a  few  words  in  a  whisper, 
not  knowing  where  we  should  sleep,  or  whether  we  should 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  355 

get  a  meal ;  and  amongst  those  heads  which  did  not  know 
what  pillow  they  should  have  at  night  there  was  at  least 
one  upon  which  a  price  was  set. 

They  accosted  each  other,  and  this  is  the  sort  of  con- 
versation they  held : — 

«  What  has  become  of  So-and-So  ?  " 

"  He  is  arrested." 

"And  So-and-So?" 

"Dead." 

"And  So-and-So?" 

"  Disappeared." 

We  held,  however,  one  other  meeting.  This  was  on 
the  Gth,  at  the  house  of  the  Representative  Raymond,  in 
the  Place  de  la  Madeleine.  Nearly  all  of  us  met  there. 
I  was  enabled  to  shake  the  hands  of  Edgar  Quinet,  of 
Chauffour,  of  Clement  Dulac,  of  Bancel,  of  Yersigny,  of 
Emile  Pean,  and  I  again  met  our  energetic  and  honest 
host  of  the  Rue  Blanche,  Coppens,  and  our  courageous 
colleague,  Pons  Stande,  whom  we  had  lost  sight  of  in  the 
smoke  of  the  battle.  From  the  windows  of  the  room 
where  we  were  deliberating  we  could  see  the  Place  de  la 
Madeleine  and  the  Boulevards  militarily  occupied,  and 
covered  with  a  fierce  and  deep  mass  of  soldiers  drawn  up 
in  battle  order,  and  which  still  seemed  to  face  a  possible 
combat.     Charamaule  came  in. 

He  drew  two  pistols  from  his  great  cloak,  placed  them 
on  the  table,  and  said,  "All  is  at  an  end.  Nothing  feasible 
and  sensible  remains,  except  a  deed  of  rashness.  I  pro- 
pose it.     Are  you  of  my  opinion,  Victor  Hugo  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered. 

I  did  not  know  what  he  was  going  to  say,  but  I  knew 
that  he  would  only  say  that  which  was  noble. 

This  was  his  proposition. 

"  We  number,"  resumed  he,  "  about  fifty  Representatives 
of  the  People,  still  standing  and  assembled  together.  We 
are  all  that  remains  of  the  National  Assembly,  of  Uni- 
versal Suffrage,  of  the  Law,  of  Right.  To-morrow,  where 
shall  we  be?  We  do  not  know.  Scattered  or  dead.  The 
hour  of  to-day  is  ours ;  this  hour  gone  and  past,  we  have 
nothing  left  but  the  shadow.  The  opportunity  is  unique. 
Let  us  profit  by  it." 

He  stopped,  looked  at  us  fixedly  with  his  steadfast  gaze, 
and  resumed, — 


356  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  Let  us  take  the  advantage  of  this  chance  of  being  alive 
and  the  good  fortune  of  being  together.  The  group  which 
is  here  is  the  whole  of  the  Republic.  Well,  then  ;  let  us 
offer  in  our  persons  all  the  Republic  to  the  army,  and 
let  us  make  the  army  fall  back  before  the  Republic, 
and  Might  fall  back  before  Right.  In  that  supreme 
moment  one  of  the  two  must  tremble,  Might  or  Right, 
and  if  Right  does  not  tremble  Might  will  tremble.  If  we 
do  not  tremble  the  soldiers  will  tremble.  Let  us  march 
upon  the  Crime.  If  the  Law  advances  the  Crime  will 
draw  back.  In  either  case  we  shall  have  done  our  duty. 
Living,  we  shall  be  preservers,  dead,  we  shall  be  heroes. 
This  is  what  I  propose." 

A  profound  silence  ensued. 

"  Let  us  put  on  our  sashes,  and  let  us  all  go  down  in  a 
procession,  two  by  two,  into  the  Place  de  la  Madeleine. 
You  can  see  that  Colonel  before  that  large  flight  of  steps, 
with  his  regiment  in  battle  array ;  we  will  go  to  him,  and 
there,  before  his  soldiers,  I  will  summon  him  to  come 
over  to  the  side  of  duty,  and  to  restore  his  regiment  to  the 
Republic.     If  he  refuses  .  .  .  ." 

Charamaule  took  his  two  pistols  in  his  hands. 

"...  I  will  blow  out  his  brains." 

"  Charamaule,"  said  I,  "  I  will  be  by  your  side." 

"  I  knew  that  well,"  Charamaule  said  to  me. 

He  added, — 

"  This  explosion  will  awaken  the  people." 

"  But,"  several  cried  out,  "  suppose  it  does  not  awaken 
them  ?  " 

»  We  shall  die." 

"  I  am  on  your  side,"  said  I  to  him. 

We  each  pressed  the  other's  hand.  But  objections 
burst  forth. 

No  one  trembled,  but  all  criticised  the  proposal.  Would 
it  not  be  madness?  And  useless  madness?  Would  it 
not  be  to  play  the  last  card  of  the  Republic  without  any 
possible  chance  of  success  ?  What  good  fortune  for  Bona- 
parte !  To  crush  with  one  blow  all  that  remained  of  those 
who  were  resisting  and  of  those  who  were  combating! 
To  finish  with  them  once  for  all !  We  were  beaten, 
granted,  but  was  it  necessary  to  add  annihilation  to 
defeat  ?  No  possible  chance  of  success.  The  brains  of 
an  army  cannot  be  blown  out.    To  do  what  Charamaule 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  357 

advised  would  be  to  open  the  tomb,  nothing  more.  It 
would  be  a  magnificent  suicide,  but  it  would  be  a  suicide. 
Under  certain  circumstances  it  is  selfish  to  be  merely  a 
hero.  A  man  accomplishes  it  at  once,  he  becomes  illus- 
trious, he  enters  into  history,  all  that  is  very  easy.  He 
leaves  to  others  behind  him  the  laborious  work  of  a  long 
protest,  the  immovable  resistance  of  the  exile,  the  bitter, 
hard  life  of  the  conquered  who  continues  to  combat  the 
victory.  Some  degree  of  patience  forms  a  part  of  politics. 
To  know  how  to  await  revenge  is  sometimes  more  diffi- 
cult than  to  hurry  on  its  catastrophe.  There  are  two 
kinds  of  courage — bravery  and  perseverance;  the  first 
belongs  to  the  soldier,  the  second  belongs  to  the  citizen.  A 
hap-hazard  end,  however  dauntless,  does  not  suffice.  To 
extricate  oneself  from  the  difficulty  by  death,  it  is  only  too 
easily  done :  what  is  required,  what  is  the  reverse  of  easy, 
is  to  extricate  one's  country  from  the  difficulty.  No,  said 
those  high-minded  men,  who  opposed  Charamaule  and 
myself,  this  to-day  which  you  propose  to  us  is  the  sup- 
pression of  to-morrow ;  take  care,  there  is  a  certain 
amount  of  desertion  in  suicide.  .  . 

The  word  "  desertion  "  grievously  wounded  Charamaule. 
"  Very  well,"  said  he,  "  I  abandon  the  idea." 

This  scene  was  exceedingly  grand,  and  Quinet  later  on, 
when  in  exile,  spoke  to  me  of  it  with  deep  emotion. 

We  separated.     We  did  not  meet  again. 

I  wandered  about  the  streets.  Where  should  I  sleep? 
That  was  the  question.  I  thought  that  No.  19,  Rue  Riche- 
lieu would  probably  be  as  much  watched  as  No.  15.  But 
the  night  was  cold,  and  I  decided  at  all  hazards  to  re- 
enter this  refuge,  although  perhaps  a  hazardous  one.  I 
was  right  to  trust  myself  to  it.  I  supped  on  a  morsel  of 
bread,  and  I  passed  a  very  good  night.  The  next  morn- 
ing at  daybreak  on  waking  I  thought  of  the  duties  which 
awaited  me.  I  thought  that  I  was  about  to  go  out,  and 
that  I  should  probably  not  come  back  to  the  room  ;  I  took 
a  little  bread  which  remained,  and  I  crumbled  it  on  the 
window-sill  for  the  birds. 


358  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

CHAPTER  X. 

DUTY    CAN   HAVE    TWO   ASPECTS 

Had  it  been  in  the  power  of  the  Left  at  any  moment  to 
prevent  the  coup  d'etat  f 

We  do  not  think  so. 

Nevertheless  here  is  a  fact  which  we  believe  we  ought 
not  to  pass  by  in  silence.     On  the  lGth  November,  1851, 
I  was  in  my   study   at  home   at  37,   Rue    de   la   Tour 
d' Auvergne  ;  it  was  about  midnight.     I  was  working.    My  . 
servant  opened  the  door. 

"  Will  you  see  M ,  sir?" 

And  he  mentioned  a  name. 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

Some  one  came  in. 

I  shall  only  speak  reservedly  of  this  eminent  and  distin- 
guished man.  Let  it  suffice  to  state  that  he  had  the  right 
to  say  when  mentioning  the  Bonapartes  "  my  family." 

It  is  known  that  the  Bonaparte  family  is  divided  into 
two  branches,  the  Imperial  family  and  the  private  family. 
The  Imperial  family  had  the  tradition  of  Napoleon,  the 
private  family  had  the  tradition  of  Lucien :  a  shade  of 
difference  which,  however,  had  no  reality  about  it. 

My  midnight  visitor  took  the  other  corner  of  the  fireplace. 

He  began  by  speaking  to  me  of  the  memoirs  of  a  very 

highminded  and  virtuous  woman,  the  Princess ,  his 

mother,  the  manuscript  of  which  he  had  confided  to  me, 
asking  my  advice  as  to  the  utility  or  the  suitability  of 
their  publication ;  this  manuscript,  besides  being  full  of 
interest,  possessed  for  me  a  special  charm,  because  the 
handwriting  of  the  Princess  resembled  my  mother's  hand- 
writing. My  visitor,  to  whom  I  gave  it  back,  turned  over 
the  leaves  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  suddenly  inter- 
rupting himself,  he  turned  to  me  and  said, — 

"  The  Republic  is  lost." 

I  answered, — 

"  Almost." 

He  resumed, — 

"  Unless  you  save  it." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  359 

"I?" 

"  You." 

"  How  so  ?  " 

"  Listen  to  me." 

Then  he  set  forth  with  that  clearness,  complicated  at 
times  with  paradoxes,  which  is  one  of  the  resources  of  his 
remarkable  mind,  the  situation,  at  the  same  time  des- 
perate and  strong,  in  which  we  were  placed. 

This  situation,  which  moreover  I  realized  as  well  as  he 
himself,  was  this  : — 

The  Right  of  the  Assembly  was  composed  of  about  400 
members,  and  the  Left  of  about  180.  The  four  hundred 
of  the  majority  belonged  by  thirds  to  three  parties,  the 
Legitimist  party,  the  Orleanist  party,  the  Bonapartist 
party,  and  in  a  body  to  the  Clerical  party.  The  180  of 
the  minority  belonged  to  the  Republic.  The  Right  mis- 
trusted the  Left,  and  had  taken  a  precaution  against  the 
minority. 

A  Vigilance  Committee,  composed  of  sixteen  members 
of  the  Right,  charged  with  impressing  unity  upon  this 
trinity  of  parties,  and  charged  with  the  task  of  carefully 
watching  the  Left,  such  was  this  precaution.  The  Left 
at  first  had  confined  itself  to  irony,  and  borrowing 
from  me  a  word  to  which  people  then  attached,  though 
wrongly,  the  idea  of  decrepitude,  had  called  the  sixteen 
Commissioners  the  "  Burgraves."  The  irony  subsequently 
turning  into  suspicion,  the  Left  had  on  its  side  ended  by 
creating  a  committee  of  sixteen  members  to  direct  the 
Left,  and  observe  the  Right;  these  the  Right  had  hastened 
to  name  the  "Red  Burgraves."  A  harmless  rejoinder. 
The  result  was  that  the  Right  watched  the  Left,  and  that 
the  Left  watched  the  Right,  but  that  no  one  watched 
Bonaparte.  They  were  two  flocks  of  sheep  so  distrustful 
of  one  another  that  they  forgot  the  wolf.  During  that 
time,  in  his  den  at  the  Elysee,  Bonaparte  was  working. 
He  was  busily  employing  the  time  which  the  Assembly, 
the  majority  and  the  minority,  was  losing  in  mistrusting 
itself.  As  people  feel  the  loosening  of  the  avalanche,  so 
they  felt  the  catastrophe  tottering  in  the  gloom.  They 
kept  watch  upon  the  enemy,  but  they  did  not  turn  their 
attention  in  the  true  direction.  To  know  where  to  fix 
one's  mistrust  is  the  secret  of  a  great  politician.  The 
Assembly  of  1851  did  not  possess  this  shrewd  certainty  of 


360  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

eyesight,  their  perspective  was  bad,  each  saw  the  future 
after  his  own  fashion,  and  a  sort  of  political  short-sighted- 
ness blinded  the  Left  as  well  as  the  Right ;  they  were 
afraid,  but  not  where  fear  was  advisable ;  they  were  in  the 
presence  of  a  mystery,  they  had  an  ambuscade  before  them, 
but  they  sought  it  where  it  did  not  exist,  and  they  did  not 
perceive  where  it  really  lay.  Thus  it  was  that  these  two 
flocks  of  sheep,  the  majority,  and  the  minority  faced  each 
other  aff  rightedly,  and  while  the  leaders  on  one  side  and  the 
guides  on  the  other,  grave  and  attentive,  asked  themselves 
anxiously  what  could  be  the  meaning  of  the  grumblings 
of  the  Left  on  the  one  side,  of  the  bleatings  of  the  Right 
on  the  other,  they  ran  the  risk  of  suddenly  feeling  the 
four  claws  of  the  coup  d'etat  fastened  in  their  shoulders. 

My  visitor  said  to  me, — 

"  You  are  one  of  the  Sixteen !  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  I,  smiling ;  "  a  '  Red  Burgrave.' " 

"  Like  me,  a  '  Red  Prince.'  " 

And  his  smile  responded  to  mine. 

He  resumed, — 

"  You  have  full  powers  ?" 

"  Yes.    Like  the  others." 

And  I  added, — 

"  Not  more  than  the  others.    The  Left  has  no  leaders." 

He  continued, — 

"  Yon,  the  Commissary  of  Police,  is  a  Republican  ? ' 

«  Yes." 

"  He  would  obey  an  order  signed  by  you  ?  " 

"  Possibly." 

"  I  say,  without  doubt." 

He  looked  at  me  fixedly. 

"  Well,  then,  have  the  President  arrested  this  night." 

It  was  now  my  turn  to  look  at  him. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

«  What  I  say." 

I  ought  to  state  that  his  language  was  frank,  resolute, 
and  self-convinced,  and  that  during  the  whole  of  this 
conversation,  and  now,  and  always,  it  has  given  me  the 
impression  of  honesty. 

"  Arrest  the  President !  "  I  cried. 

Then  he  set  forth  that  this  extraordinary  enterprise 
was  an  easy  matter ;  that  the  Army  was  undecided  ;  that 
in  the  Army   the  African  Generals   counterpoised  the 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  361 

President ;  that  the  National  Guard  favored  the  Assem- 
bly, and  in  the  Assembly  the  Left ;  that  Colonel  Forestier 
answered  for  the  8th  Legion  ;  Colonel  Gressier  for  the  6th, 
and  Colonel  Howyne  for  the  5th  ;  that  at  the  order  of  the 
Sixteen  of  the  Left  there  would  be  an  immediate  taking 
up  of  arms  ;  that  my  signature  would  suffice  ;  that,  never- 
theless, if  I  preferred  to  call  together  the  Committee,  in 
Secret  Session,  we  could  wait  till  the  next  day ;  that  on 
the  order  from  the  Sixteen,  a  battalion  would  march  upon 
the  Elysee  ;  that  the  Elysee  apprehended  nothing,  thought 
only  of  offensive,  and  not  of  defensive  measures,  and 
accordingly  would  be  taken  by  surprise  ;  that  the  soldiers 
would  not  resist  the  National  Guard ;  that  the  thing 
would  be  done  without  striking  a  blow ;  that  Vincennes 
would  open  and  close  while  Paris  slept ;  that  the  Presi- 
dent would  finish  his  night  there,  and  that  France,  on 
awakening,  would  learn  the  twofold  good  tidings :  that 
Bonaparte  was  out  of  the  fight,  and  France  out  of  danger. 

He  added, — 

"  You  can  count  on  two  Generals  :  Neumayer  at  Lyons, 
and  Lawoestyne  at  Paris." 

He  got  up  and  leaned  against  the  chimney-piece ;  I  can 
still  see  him  there,  standing  thoughtfully ;  and  he  con- 
tinued : 

"  I  do  not  feel  myself  strong  enough  to  begin  exile  all 
over  again,  but  I  feel  the  wish  to  save  my  family  and  my 
country." 

He  probably  thought  he  noticed  a  movement  of  surprise 
in  me,  for  he  accentuated  and  italicized  these  words. 

"  I  will  explain  myself.  Yes ;  I  wish  to  save  my 
family  and  my  country.  I  bear  the  name  of  Napoleon  ; 
but  as  you  know  without  fanaticism.  I  am  a  Bonaparte, 
but  not  a  Bonapartist.  I  respect,  the  name,  but  I  judge 
it.  It  already  has  one  stain.  The  Eighteenth  Brumaire. 
Is  it  about  to  have  another?  The  old  stain  disappeared 
beneath  the  glory ;  Austerlitz  covered  Brumaire.  Na- 
poleon was  absolved  by  his  genius.  The  people  admired 
him  so  greatly  that  it  forgave  him.  Napoleon  is  upon  the 
column,  there  is  an  end  of  it,  let  them  leave  him  there  in 
peace.  Let  them  not  resuscitate  him  through  Ins  bad 
qualities.  Let  them  not  compel  France  to  remember  too 
much.  This  glory  of  Napoleon  is  vulnerable.  It  has  a 
wound;  closed,   I   admit.     Do  not  let  them   reopen  it. 


362  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Whatever  apologists  may  say  and  do,  it  is  none  the  less 
true  that  by  the  Eighteenth  of  Brumaire  Napoleon  struck 
himself  a  first  blow." 

"  In  truth,"  said  I,  "  it  is  ever  against  ourselves  that  we 
commit  a  crime." 

"  Well,  then,"  he  continued,  "  his  glory  has  survived  a 
first  blow,  a  second  will  kill  it.  I  do  not  wish  it.  I  hate 
the  first  Eighteenth  Brumaire ;  I  fear  the  second.  I  wish 
to  prevent  it." 

He  paused  again,  and  continued, — 

"  That  is  why  I  have  come  to  you  to-night.  I  wish  to 
succor  this  great  wounded  glory.  By  the  advice  which 
I  am  giving  you,  if  you  can  carry  it  out,  if  the  Left  carries 
it  out,  I  save  the  first  Napoleon ;  for  if  a  second  crime  is 
superposed  upon  his  glory,  this  glory  would  disappear. 
Yes,  this  name  would  founder,  and  history  would  no 
longer  own  it.  I  will  go  farther  and  complete  my  idea. 
I  also  save  the  present  Napoleon,  for  he  who  as  yet  has 
no  glory  will  only  have  crime.  I  save  his  memory  from 
an  eternal  pillory.     Therefore,  arrest  him." 

He  was  truly  and  deeply  moved.     lie  resumed, — 

"As  to  the  Republic,  the  arrest  of  Louis  Bonaparte  is 
deliverance  for  her.  I  am  right,  therefore,  in  saying  that 
by  what  I  am  proposing  to  you  I  am  saving  my  family 
and  my  country." 

"  But,"  I  said  to  him,  "  what  you  propose  to  me  is  a 
coup  cVetat." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Without  doubt.  We  are  the  minority,  and  we  should 
commit  an  act  which  belongs  to  the  majority.  We  are  a 
part  of  the  Assembly.  We  should  be  acting  as  though 
we  were  the  entire  Assembly.  We  who  condemn  all  usur- 
pation should  ourselves  become  usurpers.  We  should 
put  our  hands  upon  a  functionary  whom  the  Assembly 
alone  has  the  right  of  arresting.  We,  the  defenders  of  the 
Constitution,  we  should  break  the  Constitution.  We,  the 
men  of  the  Law,  we  should  violate  the  Law.  It  is  a  coup 
cTetat" 

"  Yes,  but  a  coup  (Vctat  for  a  good  purpose." 

"  Evil  committed  for  a  good  purpose  remains  evil." 

"  Even  when  it  succeeds  ?  " 

"  Above  all  when  it  succeeds." 

"Why?" 


THE  niSTOEY  OF  A  CRIME.  363 

"Because  it  then  becomes  an  example." 

"You  do  not  then  approve  of  the  Eighteenth  Fruc- 
ticlor  ?  " 

"No." 

"  But  Eighteenth  Fructidors  prevent  Eighteenth  Bru- 
m  aires." 

"  No.     They  prepare  the  way  for  them." 

"  But  reasons  of  State  exist  ?  " 

"  No.     What  exists  is  the  Law." 

"  Tlie  Eighteenth  Fructidor  has  been  accepted  by  ex- 
ceedingly honest  minds." 

"  I  know  that." 

"  Blanqui  is  in  its  favor,  with  Michelet." 

"  I  am  against  it,  with  Barbes." 

From  the  moral  aspect  I  passed  to  the  practical  aspect. 

"  This  said,"  resumed  I,  "  let  us  examine  your  plan." 

This  plan  bristled  with  difficulties.  I  pointed  them  out 
to  him. 

"  Count  on  the  National  Guard !  Why,  General  Law- 
oestyne  had  not  yet  got  command  of  it.  Count  on  the 
Army  ?  Why,  General  Neumayer  was  at  Lyons,  and  not  at 
Paris.  Would  he  march  to  the  assistance  of  the  Assembly  ? 
What  did  we  know  about  this?  As  for  Lawoestyne,  was 
he  not  double-faced  ?  Were  they  sure  of  him  ?  Call  to 
arms  the  8th  Legion?  Forestier  was  no  longer  Colonel. 
The  5th  and  Cth  ?  But  Gressier  and  Howyne  were  only 
lieutenant-colonels,  would  these  legions  follow  them  ? 
Order  the  Commissary  Yon?  But  would  he  obey  the 
Left  alone  ?  He  was  the  agent  of  the  Assembly,  and  con- 
sequently of  the  majority,  but  not  of  the  minority.  These 
were  so  many  questions.  But  these  questions,  supposing 
them  answered,  and  answered  in  the  sense  of  success,  was 
success  itself  the  question?  The  question  is  never  Suc- 
cess, it  is  always  Bight.  But  here,  even  if  we  had  ob- 
tained success,  we  should  not  have  Right.  In  order  to 
arrest  the  President  an  order  of  the  Assembly  was  nec- 
essary ;  we  should  replace  the  order  of  the  Assembly  by 
an  act  of  violence  of  the  Left.  A  scaling  and  a  burg- 
lary ;  an  assault  by  scaling-ladders  on  the  constituted 
authority,  a  burglary  on  the  Law.  Now  let  us  suppose 
resistance ;  we  should  shed  blood.  The  Law  violated 
leads  to  the  shedding  of  blood.  What  is  all  this  ?  It  is 
a  crime." 


361  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"No,  indeed,"  he  exclaimed,  "  it  is  the  stilus populi" 

And  lie  added, — 

"  Suprema  Lex." 

"Not  for  me,"  I  said. 

I  continued, — 

"  I  would  not  kill  a  child  to  save  a  people." 

"  Cato  did  so." 

"Jesus  did  not  do  so." 

And  I  added, — 

"  You  have  on  your  side  all  ancient  history,  you  are 
acting  according-  to  the  uprightness  of  the  Greeks,  and  ac- 
cording to  the  uprightness  of  the  Romans ;  for  me,  I  am 
acting  according  to  the  uprightness  of  Humanity.  The 
new  horizon  is  of  wider  range  than  the  old." 

There  was  a  pause.     He  broke  it. 

"  Then  he  will  be  the  one  to  attack  !  " 

"  Let  it  be  so." 

"  You  are  about  to  engage  in  a  battle  which  is  almost 
lost  beforehand." 

"  I  fear  so." 

"  And  this  unequal  combat  can  only  end  for  you,  Victor 
Hugo,  in  death  or  exile." 

"I  believe  it." 

"  Death  is  the  affair  of  a  moment,  but  exile  is  long." 

"  It  is  a  habit  to  be  learned." 

He  continued, — 

"  You  will  not  only  be  proscribed.  You  will  be  calum- 
niated." 

"  It  is  a  habit  already  learned." 

He  continued, — 

"  Do  you  know  what  they  are  saying  already  ?  " 

«  What  ?  " 

"  They  say  that  you  are  irritated  against  him  because 
he  has  refused  to  make  you  a  Minister." 

"  Why  you  know  yourself  that " 

"  I  know  that  it  is  just  the  reverse.  It  is  he  who  has 
asked  you,  and  it  is  you  who  have  refused." 

"  Well,  then " 

"  They  lie." 

"  What  does  it  matter  ?  " 

He  exclaimed, — 

"  Thus,  you  will  have  caused  the  Bonapartes  to  re-enter 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  365 

France,  and  you  will  be  banished  from  France  by  a  Bona- 
parte !  "  * 

"  Who  knows,"  said  I,  "  if  I  have  not  committed  a  fault? 
This  injustice  is  perhaps  a  justice." 

We  were  both  silent.     He  resumed, — 

"  Could  you  bear  exile  ?  " 

"  I  will  try." 

"  Could  you  live  without  Paris?" 

"I  should  have  the  ocean." 

"You  would  then  go  to  the  seaside?" 

"I  think  so." 

"  It  is  sad." 

"  It  is  grand." 

There  was  another  pause.     He  broke  it. 

"  You  do  not  know  what  exile  is.  I  do  know  it.  It  is 
terrible.  Assuredly,  I  would  not  begin  it  again.  Death 
is  a  bourne  whence  no  one  comes  back,  exile  is  a  place 
whither  no  one  returns." 

"If  necessary,"  I  said  to  him,  "I  will  go,  and  I  will 
return  to  it." 

"  Better  die.  To  quit  life  is  nothing,  but  to  quit  one's 
country " 

"  Alas  ! "  said  I,  "  that  is  everything." 

"  Well,  then,  why  accept  exile  when  it  is  in  your  power 
to  avoid  it?     What  do  you  place  above  your  country?" 

"  Conscience." 

This  answer  made  him  thoughtful.  However,  he  re- 
sumed. 

"  But  on  reflection  your  conscience  will  approve  of 
what  you  will  have  done." 

"  No." 

"Why?" 

"  I  have  told  you.  Because  my  conscience  is  so  consti- 
tuted that  it  puis  nothing  above  itself.  I  feel  it  upon  me 
as  the  headland  can  feel  the  lighthouse  which  is  upon  it. 
All  life  is  an  abyss,  and  eonscienee  illuminates  it  around 
me." 

"And  I  also,"  he  exclaimed — and  I  affirm  that  nothing 
could  lie  more  sincere  or  more  loyal  than  his  tone — "and 
I  also  feel  and  see  my  conscience.  It  approves  of  what  1 
am  doing.     I    appear    to  be    betraying    Louis;  but    I  am 

*  14th  of  June,  1847.  Chamber  of  Peers.  Seethe  work"A\ant 
i' Exile." 


366  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

really  doing  him  a  service.  To  save  him  from  a  crime  is 
to  save  him.  I  have  tried  every  means.  There  only 
remains  this  one,  to  arrest  him.  In  coming  to  you,  in 
acting  as  I  do,  T  conspire  at  the  same  time  against  him 
and  for  him,  against  his  power,  and  for  his  honor.  What 
I  am  doing  is  right." 

"  It  is  true,"  I  said  to  him.  "  You  have  a  generous  and 
a  lofty  aim." 

And  I  resumed, — 

"  But  our  two  duties  are  different.  I  could  not  hinder 
Louis  Bonaparte  from  committing  a  crime  unless  I  com- 
mitted one  myself.  I  wish  neither  for  an  Eighteenth 
Brumaire  for  him,  nor  for  an  Eighteenth  Fructidor  for 
myself.  I  would  rather  be  proscribed  than  be  a  pro- 
scriber.  I  have  the  choice  between  two  crimes,  my  crime 
and  the  crime  of  Louis  Bonaparte.  I  will  not  choose 
my  crime." 

"  But  then  you  will  have  to  endure  his." 

"  I  would  rather  endure  a  crime  than  commit  one." 

He  remained  thoughtful,  and  said  to  me, — 

"  Let  it  be  so." 

And  he  added, — 

"  Perhaps  we  are  both  in  the  right." 

"  I  think  so,"  I  said. 

And  I  pressed  his  hand. 

He  took  his  mother's  manuscript  and  went  away. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  conversa- 
tion had  lasted  more  than  two  hours.  I  did  not  go  to  bed 
until  I  had  written  it  out. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE    COMBAT    FINISHED,    THE    OEDEAL   BEGINS. 

I  did  not  know  where  to  go. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  7th  I  determined  to  go  back 
once  more  to  19,  Rue  Richelieu.  Under  the  gateway 
some  one  seized  my  arm.  It  was  Madame  D.  She  was 
waiting  for  me. 

"  Do  not  go  in,"  she  said  to  me. 

"  Am  I  discovered  ?  " 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  367 

"Yes."  • 

"  And  taken." 

«  No." 

She  added, — 

"  Come." 

We  crossed  the  courtyard,  and  we  went  out  by  a  back- 
door into  the  Rue  Fontaine  Moliore ;  we  reached  the 
square  of  the  Palais  Royal.  The  fiacres  were  standing 
there  as  usual.     We  got  into  the  first  we  came  to. 

"  Where  are  we  to  go  ?  "  asked  the  driver. 

She  looked  at  me. 

I  answered, — 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  I  know,"  she  said. 

Women  always  know  where  Providence  lies. 

An  hour  later  I  was  in  safety. 

From  the  4th,  every  day  which  passed  by  consolidated 
the  coup  d'etat.  Our  defeat  was  complete,  and  we  felt 
ourselves  abandoned.  Paris  was  like  a  forest  in  which 
Louis  Bonaparte  was  making  a  battue  of  the  Representa- 
tives ;  the  wild  beast  was  hunting  down  the  sportsmen. 
We  heard  the  indistinct  baying  of  Maupas  behind  us. 
We  were  compelled  to  disperse.  The  pursuit  was  ener- 
getic. We  entered  into  the  second  phase  of  duty— the 
catastrophe  accepted  and  submitted  to.  The  vanquished 
became  the  proscribed.  Each  one  of  us  had  his  own  con- 
cluding adventures.  Mine  was  what  it  should  have  been 
— exile  ;  death  having  missed  me.  I  am  not  going  to  re- 
late it  here,  this  book  is  not  my  biography,  and  I  ought 
not  to  divert  to  myself  any  of  the  attention  which  it  may 
excite.  Besides,  what  concerns  me  personally  is  told  in  a 
narrative  which  is  one  of  the  testaments  of  exile.  * 

Notwithstanding  the  relentless  pursuit  which  was  di- 
rected against  us,  I  did  not  think  it  my  duty  to  leave 
Paris  as  long  as  a  glimmer  of  hope  remained,  and  as  long 
as  an  awakening  of  the  people  seemed  possible.  Malarmet 
sent  me  word  in  my  refuge  that  a  movement  would  take 
place  at  Belleville  on  Tuesday  the  9th.  1  waited  until  the 
12th.  Nothing  stirred.  The  people  were  indeed  dead. 
Happily  such  deaths  as  these,  like  the  deaths  of  the  gods, 
are  only  for  a  time. 

*  "  Les  ITommes  de  l'Exile,"  by  Charles  Hugo. 


368  TIIE  III STORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

I  had  a  last  interview  with  Jules  Favre  and  Michel  de 
Bourges  at  Madame  Didier's  in  the  Rue  de  la  Ville- 
Leveque.  It  was  at  night.  Bastide  came  there.  This 
brave  man  said  to  me, — 

"  You  are  about  to  leave  Paris ;  for  myself,  I  remain 
here.  Take  me  as  your  lieutenant.  Direct  me  from  the 
depths  of  your  exile.  Make  use  of  me  as  an  arm  which 
you  have  in  France." 

"  I  will  make  use  of  you  as  of  a  heart,"  I  said  to  him. 

On  the  14th,  amidst  the  adventures  which  my  son 
Charles  relates  in  his  book,  I  succeeded  in  reaching 
Brussels. 

The  vanquished  are  like  cinders,  Destiny  blows  upon 
them  and  disperses  them.  There  was  a  gloomy  vanish- 
ing of  all  the  combatants  for  Right  and  for  Law.  A 
tragical  disappearance. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    EXILED. 

The  Crime  having  succeeded,  all  hastened  to  join  it. 
To  persist  was  possible,  to  resist  was  not  possible.  The 
situation  became  more  and  more  desperate.  One  would 
have  said  that  an  enormous  wall  was  rising  upon  the 
horizon  ready  to  close  in.     The  outlet:  Exile. 

The  great  souls,  the  glories  of  the  people,  emigrated. 
Thus  there  was  seen  this  dismal  sight — France  driven  out 
from  France. 

But  what  the  Present  appears  to  lose,  the  Future  gains, 
the  hand  which  scatters  is  also  the  hand  which  sows. 

The  Representatives  of  the  Left,  surrounded,  tracked, 
pursued,  hunted  down,  wandered  for  several  days  from 
refuge  to  refuge.  Those  who  escaped  found  great  dif- 
ficulty in  leaving  Paris  and  France.  Madier  de  Montjau 
had  very  black  and  thick  eyebrows,  he  shaved  off  half  of 
them,  cut  his  hair,  and  let  his  beard  grow.  Y van,  Pelletier, 
Gindrier,  and  Doutre  shaved  off  their  moustaches  and 
beards.  Versigny  reached  Brussels  on  the  14th  with  a 
passport  in  the  name  of  Morin.  Schcelcher  dressed  him- 
self up  as  a  priest.  This  costume  became  him  admirably, 
and  suited  his  austere  countenance  and  grave  voice.     A 


THE  niSTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  369 

worthy  priest  helped  him  to  disguise  himself,  and  lent 
him  his  cassock  and  his  band,  made  him  shave  off  his 
whiskers  a  few  days  previously,  so  that  he  should  not  be 
betrayed  by  the  white  trace  of  his  freshly-cut  beard,  gave 
him  his  own  passport,  and  only  left  him  at  the  railway 
station.* 

De  Flotte  disguised  himself  as  a  servant,  and  in  this 
manner  succeeded  in  crossing  the  frontier  at  Mouscron. 
From  there  he  reached  Ghent,  and  thence  Brussels. 

On  the  night  of  December  26th,  I  had  returned  to  the 
little  room,  without  a  fire,  which  I  occupied  (No.  9)  on  the 
second  story  of  the  Hotel  de  la  Porte- Verte  ;  it  was  mid- 
night ;  I  had  just  gone  to  bed  and  was  falling  asleep,  when 
a  knock  sounded  at  my  door.  I  awoke.  I  always  left  the 
key  outside.  "  Come  in,"  I  said.  A  chambermaid  entered 
with  a  light,  and  brought  two  men  whom  I  did  not  know. 

One  was  a  lawyer,  of  Ghent,  M ;  the  other  was  De 

Flotte.  lie  took  my  two  hands  and  pressed  them  tenderly. 
"  What,"  I  said  to  him,  "is  it  you?" 

At  the  Assembly  De  Flotte,  with  his  prominent  and 
thoughtful  brow,  his  deep-set  eyes,  his  close-shorn  head, 
and  his  long  beard,  slightly  turned  back,  looked  like  a 
creation  of  Sebastian  del  Piombo  wandering  out  of  his 
picture  of  the  "  Raising  of  Lazarus ; "  and  I  had  before 
my  eyes  a  short  young  man,  thin  and  pallid,  with  spec- 
tacles. But  what  he  had  not  been  able  to  change,  and 
what  I  recognized  immediately,  was  the  great  heart,  the 
lofty  mind,  the  energetic  character,  the  dauntless  courage  ; 
and  if  I  did  not  recognize  him  by  his  features,  I  recognized 
him  by  the  grasp  of  his  hand. 

Edgar  Quinet  was  brought  away  on  the  10th  by  a  noble- 
hearted  Wallachian  woman,  Princess  Cantacuzene,  who 
undertook  to  conduct  him  to  the  frontier,  and  who  kept 
her  word.  It  was  a  troublesome  task.  Quinet  had  a 
foreign  passport  in  the  name  of  Grubesko,  he  was  to  per- 
sonate a  Wallachian,  and  it  was  arranged  that  he  should  not 
know  how  to  speak  French,  he  who  writes  it  as  a  master. 
The  journey  was  perilous.  They  ask  for  passports  along 
all  the  line,  beginning  at  the  terminus.  At  Amiens  they 
were  particularly  suspicious.  But  at  Lille  the  danger  was 
great.  The  gendarmes  went  from  carriage  to  carriage  ; 
entered  them  lantern  in  hand,  and  compared  the  written 

*  See  "  Les  Homines  de  1' Exile." 

24 


370  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

descriptions  of  the  travellers  with  their  personal  appear- 
ance. Several  who  appeared  to  be  suspicious  characters 
were  arrested,  and  were  immediately  thrown  into  prison. 
Edgar  Quinet,  seated  by  the  side  of  Madame  Cantacuzene 
awaited  the  turn  of  his  carriage.  At  length  it  came. 
Madame  Cantacuzene  leaned  quickly  forward  towards  the 
gendarmes,  and  hastened  to  present  her  passport,  but  the 
corporal  waved  back  Madame  Cantacuzene's  passport  say 
ing,  "  It  is  useless,  Madame.  We  have  nothing  to  do  with 
women's  passports,"  and  he  asked  Quinet  abruptly, 
"Your  papers  '? "  Quinet  held  out  his  passport  unfolded. 
The  gendarmes  said  to  him,  "  Come  out  of  the  carriage,  so 
that  we  can  compare  your  description."  It  happened, 
however,  that  the  Wallachian  passport  contained  no  de- 
scription. The  corporal  frowned,  and  said  to  his  subor- 
dinates, "  An  irregular  passport !  Go  and  fetch  the  Com- 
missary." 
All  seemed  lost,  but  Madame  Cantacuzene  began  to  speak 
to  Quinet  in  the  most  Wallachian  words  in  the  world, 
with  incredible  assurance  and  volubility,  so  much  so  that 
the  gendarme,  convinced  that  he  had  to  deal  with  all  Walla- 
chia  in  person,  and  seeing  the  train  ready  to  start,  returned 
the  passport  to  Quinet,  saying  to  him,  "  There !  be  off  with 
you ! " — a  few  hours  afterwards  Edgar  Quinet  was  in 
Belgium. 

Arnauld  de  l'Ariege  also  had  Ins  adventures.  He  was 
a  marked  man,  he  had  to  hide  himself.  Arnauld  being  a 
Catholic,  Madame  Arnauld  went  to  the  priest  ;  the  Abbe 
Deguerry  slipped  out  of  the  way,  the  Abbe  Maret  con- 
sented to  conceal  him ;  the  Abbe  Maret  was  honest  and 
good.  Arnauld  d'Ariege  remained  hidden  for  a  fortnight 
at  the  house  of  this  worthy  priest.  lie  wrote  from  the 
Abbe  Maret's  a  letter  to  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  urging 
him  to  refuse  the  Pantheon,  which  a  decree  of  Louis  Bona- 
parte took  away  from  France  and  gave  to  Home.  This  let- 
ter angered  the  Archbishop.  Arnauld,  proscribed,  reached 
Brussels,  and  there,  at  the  age  of  eighteen  months,  died 
the  "little  Red,"  who  on  the  3d  of  December  had  carried 
the  workman's  letter  to  the  Archbishop — an  angel  sent 
by  God  to  the  priest  who  had  not  understood  the  angel, 
and  who  no  longer  knew  God. 

In  this  medley  of  incidents  and  adventures  each  one  had 
his  drama.     Cournet's  drama  was  strange  and  terrible. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  371 

Cournet,  it  may  be  remembered,  had  been  a  naval 
officer.  He  was  one  of  those  men  of  a  prompt,  decisive 
character,  who  magnetized  other  men,  and  who  on  certain 
extraordinary  occasions  send  an  electric  shock  through  a 
multitude.  He  possessed  an  imposing  air,  broad  shoulders, 
brawny  arms,  powerful  fists,  a  tall  stature,  all  of  which 
give  confidence  to  the  masses,  and  the  intelligent  ex- 
pression which  gives  confidence  to  the  thinkers.  You 
saw  him  pass,  and  you  recognized  strength ;  you  heard 
him  speak,  and  you  felt  the  will,  which  is  more  than 
strength.  When  quite  a  youth  he  had  served  in  the 
navy.  He  combined  in  himself  in  a  certain  degree — and 
it  is  this  which  made  this  energetic  man,  when  well 
directed  and  well  employed,  a  means  of  enthusiasm  and  a 
support — he  combined  the  popular  fire  and  the  military 
coolness.  He  was  one  of  those  natures  created  for  the 
hurricane  and  for  the  crowd,  who  have  begun  their  study 
of  the  people  by  their  study  of  the  ocean,  and  who  are  at 
their  ease  in  revolutions  as  in  tempests.  As  we  have 
narrated,  he  took  an  important  part  in  the  combat.  He 
had  been  dauntless  and  indefatigable,  he  was  one  of  those 
who  could  yet  rouse  it  to  life.  From  Wednesday  after- 
noon several  police  agents  were  charged  to  seek  him 
everywhere,  to  arrest  him  wherever  they  might  find  him, 
and  to  take  him  to  the  Prefecture  of  the  Police,  where 
orders  had  been  given  to  shoot  him  immediately. 

Cournet,  however,  with  his  habitual  daring,  came  and 
went  freely  in  order  to  carry  on  the  lawful  resistance, 
even  in  the  quarters  occupied  by  the  troops,  shaving  off 
his  moustaches  as  his  sole  precaution. 

On  the  Thursday  afternoon  he  was  on  the  boulevards 
at  a  few  paces  from  a  regiment  of  cavalry  drawn  up  in 
order.  lie  was  quietly  conversing  with  two  of  his  com- 
rades of  the  fight,  Huy  and  Lorrain.  Suddenly,  ho  per- 
ceives himself  and  his  companions  surrounded  by  a 
company  of  sergents  de  ville  ;  a  man  touches  his  arm  and 
says  to  him,  "  You  are  Cournet ;  I  arrest  you." 

"  Bah!"  answers  Cournet;  "my  name  is  Lupine." 

The  man  resumes, — 

"You  are  Cournet.  Do  not  you  recognize  me?  Well, 
then,  I  recognize  you  ;  I  have  been,  like  you,  a  member  of 
the  Socialist  Electoral  Committee." 

Cournet  looks  him  in  the  face,  and  finds  this  counte- 


872  TI1E  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

nance  in  his  memory.  The  man  was  right.  He  had,  in 
fact,  formed  part  of  the  gathering  in  the  Rue  Saint  Spire. 
The  police  spy  resumed,  laughing, — 

"  I  nominated  Eugene  Sue  with  you." 

It  was  useless  to  deny  it,  and  the  moment  was  not 
favorable  for  resistance.  There  were  on  the  spot,  as  we 
have  said,  twenty  sergents  de  ville  and  a  regiment  of 
Dragoons. 

"  I  will  follow  you,"  said  Cournet. 

A  fiacre  was  called  up. 

"  While  I  am  about  it,"  said  the  police  spy,  "  come  in 
all  three  of  you." 

He  made  II  uy  and  Lorrain  get  in  with  Cournet,  placed 
them  on  the  front  seat,  and  seated  himself  on  the  back 
seat  by  Cournet,  and  then  shouted  to  the  driver, — ■ 

"  To  the  Prefecture  !  " 

The  sergents  de  ville  surrounded  the  fiacre.  But  whether 
by  chance  or  through  confidence,  or  in  the  haste  to  obtain 
the  payment  for  his  capture,  the  man  who  had  arrested 
Cournet  shouted  to  the  coachman,  "Look  sharp,  look 
sharp  !  "  and  the  fiacre  went  off  at  a  gallop. 

In  the  meantime  Cournet  was  well  aware  that  on 
arriving  he  would  be  shot  in  the  very  courtyard  of  the 
Prefecture.     He  had  resolved  not  to  go  there. 

At  a  turning  in  the  Rue  St  Antoine  he  glanced  behind, 
and  noticed  that  the  sergents  de  ville  only  followed  the 
fiacre  at  a  considerable  distance. 

Not  one  of  the  four  men  which  the  fiacre  was  bearing 
away  had  as  yet  opened  their  lips. 

Cournet  threw  a  meaning  look  at  his  two  companions 
seated  in  front  of  him,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  We  are  three  ; 
let  us  take  advantage  of  this  to  escape."  Both  answered 
by  an  imperceptible  movement  of  the  eyes,  which  pointed 
out  the  street  full  of  passers-by,  and  which  said,  "  No." 

A  few  moments  afterwards  the  fiacre  emerged  from  the 
Rue  St.  Antoine,  and  entered  the  Rue  de  Fourcy.  The 
Rue  de  Fourcy  is  usually  deserted,  no  one  was  passing 
down  it  at  that  moment. 

Cournet  turned  suddenly  to  the  police  spy,  and  asked 
him, — 

"  Have  you  a  warrant  for  my  arrest  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  have  my  card." 

And  he  drew  his  police  agent's  card  out  of  his  pocket, 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  373 

and  showed  it  to  Cournet.  Then  the  following  dialogue 
ensued  between  these  two  men, — 

"  This  is  not  regular." 

"  What  does  that  matter  to  me?" 

"  You  have  no  right  to  arrest  me." 

"All  the  same,  I  arrest  you." 

"  Look  here  ;  is  it  money  that  you  want?  Do  you  wish 
for  any  ?    I  have  some  with  me  ;  let  me  escape." 

"  A  gold  nugget  as  big  as  your  head  would  not  tempt 
me.     You  are  my  finest  capture,  Citizen  Cournet." 

"  Where  are  you  taking  me  to  ?  " 

"  To  the  Prefecture." 

"  They  will  shoot  me  there  ?  " 

"  Possibly." 

"  And  my  two  comrades  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  say  '  No.'  " 

"  I  will  not  go." 

"  You  will  go,  nevertheless." 

"  I  tell  you  I  will  not  go,"  exclaimed  Cournet. 

And  with  a  movement,  unexpected  as  a  flash  of  light- 
ning, he  seized  the  police  spy  by  the  throat. 

The  police  agent  could  not  utter  a  cry,  he  struggled :  a 
hand  of  bronze  clutched  him. 

His  tongue  protruded  from  his  mouth,  his  eyes  became 
hideous,  and  started  from  their  sockets.  Suddenly  his 
head  sank  down,  and  reddish  froth  rose  from  his  throat 
to  his  lips.     He  was  dead. 

Huy  and  Lorrain,  motionless,  and  as  though  themselves 
thunderstruck,  gazed  at  this  gloomy  deed. 

They  did  not  utter  a  word.  They  did  not  move  a  limb. 
The  fiacre  was  still  driving  on. 

"  Open  the  door  !  "  Cournet  cried  to  them. 

They  did  not  stir,  they  seemed  to  have  become  stone. 

Cournet,  whose  thumb  was  closely  pressed  in  the  neck 
of  the  wretched  police  spy,  tried  to  open  the  door  with 
his  left  hand,  but  he  did  not  succeed,  he  felt  that  lie  could 
only  do  it  with  his  right  hand,  and  he  was  obliged  to  loose 
his  hold  of  the  man.  The  man  fell  face  forwards,  and 
sank  down  on  his  knees. 

Cournet  opened  the  door. 

"Off  with  you  !  "  he  said  to  them. 

Iluy  and  Lorrain  jumped  into  the  street  and  fled  at  the 
top  of  their  speed. 


374  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CBIME. 

The  coachman  had  noticed  nothing. 

Cournet  let  them  get  away,  and  then,  pulling  the  check- 
string,  stopped  the  fiacre,  got  down  leisurely,  reclosed  the 
door,  quietly  took  forty  sous  from  his  purse,  gave  them  to 
the  coachman,  who  had  not  left  his  seat,  and  said  to  him, 
"  Drive  on." 

He  plunged  into  Paris.  In  the  Place  des  Victoires  he 
met  the  ex-Constituent  Isidore  Buvignier,  his  friend,  who 
about  six  weeks  previously  had  come  out  of  the  Madelon- 
nettes,  where  he  had  been  confined  for  the  matter  of  the 
Solidarity  JRepublicaine.  Buvignier  was  one  of  the  note- 
worthy figures  on  the  high  benches  of  the  Left;  fair, 
close-shaven,  with  a  stern  glance,  he  made  one  think  of 
the  English  Roundheads,  and  he  had  the  bearing  rather 
of  a  Cromwellian  Puritan  than  of  a  Dantonist  Man  of  the 
Mountain.  Cournet  told  his  adventure,  the  extremity 
had  been  terrible. 

Buvignier  shook  his  head. 

"  You  have  killed  a  man,"  he  said. 

In  "  Marie  Tudor,"  I  have  made  Fabiani  answer  under 
similar  circumstances, — 

"  No,  a  Jew." 

Cournet,  who  probably  had  not  read  "  Marie  Tudor," 
answered, — 

"  No,  a  police  spy." 

Then  he  resumed, — 

"  I  have  killed  a  police  spy  to  save  three  men,  one  of 
whom  was  myself." 

Cournet  was  right.  They  were  in  the  midst  of  the 
combat,  they  were  taking  him  to  be  shot ;  the  spy  who 
had  arrested  him  was,  properly  speaking,  an  assassin,  and 
assuredly  it  was  a  case  of  legitimate  defence.  I  add  that 
this  wretch,  a  democrat  for  the  people,  a  spy  for  the 
police,  was  a  twofold  traitor.  Moreover,  the  police  spy 
was  the  jackal  of  the  coup  d'etat,  while  Cournet  was  the 
combatant  for  the  Law. 

"You  must  conceal  yourself,"  said  Buvignier;  "come 
to  Juvisy." 

Buvignier  had  a  little  refuge  at  Juvisy,  which  is  on  the 
road  to  Corbeil.  He  was  known  and  loved  there ;  Cour- 
net and  he  reached  there  that  evening. 

But  they  had  hardly  arrived  when  some  peasants  said 
to  Buvigny,  "  The  police  have  already  been  here  to  arrest 


THE  HISTOUT  OF  A  CRIME.  375 

you,  and  are  coming  again  to-night."  It  was  necessary 
to  go  back. 

Cournet,  more  in  danger  than  ever,  hunted,  wandering, 
pursued,  hid  himself  in  Paris  with  considerable  difficulty. 
He  remained  there  till  the  16th.  He  had  no  means  of 
procuring  himself  a  passport.  At  length,  on  the  16th, 
some  friends  of  his  on  the  Northern  Railway  obtained  for 
him  a  special  passport,  worded  as  follows  : — 

"Allow  M.  ,  an  Inspector  on  the  service  of  the 

Company,  to  pass." 

He  decided  to  leave  the  next  day,  and  take  the  day 
train,  thinking,  perhaps  rightly,  that  the  night  train 
would  be  more  closely  watched. 

On  the  17th,  at  daybreak,  favored  by  the  dim  dawn, 
he  glided  from  street  to  street,  to  the  Northern  Railway 
Station.  His  tall  stature  was  a  special  source  of  danger. 
He,  however,  reached  the  station  in  safety.  The  stokers 
placed  him  with  them  on  the  tender  of  the  engine  of  the 
train,  which  was  about  to  start.  He  only  had  the  clothes 
which  he  had  worn  since  the  2d;  no  clean  linen,  no 
trunk,  a  little  money.  * 

In  December,  the  day  breaks  late  and  the  night  closes 
in  early,  which  is  favorable  to  proscribed  persons. 

He  reached  the  frontier  at  night  without  hindrance. 
At  Neuveglise  he  was  in  Belgium  ;  he  believed  himself  in 
safety.  When  asked  for  his  papers  he  caused  himself  to 
be  taken  before  the  Burgomaster,  and  said  to  him,  "I  am 
a  political  refugee." 

The  Burgomaster,  a  Belgian  but  a  Bonapartist — this 
breed  is  to  be  found — had  him  at  once  reconducted  to  the 
frontier  by  the  gendarmes,  who  were  ordered  to  hand 
him  over  to  the  French  authorities. 

Cournet  gave  himself  up  for  lost. 

The  Belgian  gendarmes  took  him  to  Armentieres.  If 
they  had  asked  for  the  Mayor  it  would  have  been  all  at 
an  end  with  Cournet,  but  they  asked  for  the  Inspector  of 
Customs. 

A  glimmer  of  hope  dawned  upon  Cournet. 

He  accosted  the  Inspector  of  Customs  with  his  head 
erect,  and  shook  hands  with  him. 

The  Belgian  gendarmes  had  not  yet  released  him. 

"Now,  sir,"  said  Cournel  to  tin;  Custom  House  officer, 
"you  are  an  Inspector  of  Customs,  I  am  an  Inspector  of 


376  TIIE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Railways.  Inspectors  do  not  eat  inspectors.  The  deuce 
take  it!  "  Some  worthy  Belgians  have  taken  fright  and 
sent  me  to  yon  between  four  gendarmes.  Why,  I  know 
not.  I  am  sent  by  the  Northern  Company  to  relay  the 
ballast  of  a  bridge  somewhere  about  here  which  is  not 
firm.  I  come  to  ask  you  to  allow  me  to  continue  my  road. 
Here  is  my  pass." 

He  presented  the  pass  to  the  Custom  House  officer,  the 
Custom  House  officer  read  it,  found  it  according  to  due 
form,  and  said  to  Cournet, — 

"  Mr.  Inspector,  you  are  free. ' 

Cournet,  delivered  from  the  Belgian  gendarmes  by 
French  authority,  hastened  to  the  railway  station.  He 
had  friends  there. 

"  Quick,"  he  said,  "  it  is  dark,  but  it  does  not  matter,  it 
is  even  all  the  better.  Find  me  some  one  who  has  been  a 
smuggler,  and  who  will  help  me  to  pass  the  frontier." 

They  brought  him  a  small  lad  of  eighteen  ;  fair-haired, 
ruddy,  hardy,  a  Walloon  *  and  who  spoke  French. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  said  Cournet. 

"  Henry." 

"  You  look  like  a  girl." 

"Nevertheless  I  am  a  man." 

"  Is  it  you  who  undertake  to  guide  me?" 

"Yes." 

"  You  have  been  a  smuggler  ?  " 

"  I  am  one  still." 

"  Do  you  know  the  roads  ?  " 

"No.     I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  roads." 

"  What  do  you  know  then  ?  " 

"  I  know  the  passes." 

"  There  are  two  Custom  House  lines." 

"I  know  that  well." 

"Will  you  pass  me  across  them?" 

"  Without  doubt." 

"  Then  you  are  not  afraid  of  the  Custom  House  officers  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  of  the  dogs." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Cournet,  "  we  will  take  sticks." 

They   accordingly  armed  themselves  with  big  sticks. 

*  The  name  given  to  a  population  belonging  to  the  Romanic  family, 
and  more  particularly  to  those  of  French  descent,  who  occupy  the 
region  along  the  frontiers  of  the  German-speaking  territory  in  the 
South  Netherlands  from  Dunkirk  to  Malmedy  in  Rhenish  Prussia. 


TIIE  HISTOIiY  OF  A  CRIME.  377 

Cournet  gave  fifty  francs  to  Henry,  and  promised  him  fifty 
more  when  they  should  have  crossed  the  second  Custom 
House  line. 

"  That  is  to  say,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,"  said 
Henry. 

It  was  midnight. 

They  set  out  on  their  way. 

What  Henry  called  the  "  passes  "  another  would  have 
called  the  "  hindrances."  They  were  a  succession  of  pit- 
falls and  quagmires.  It  had  been  raining,  and  all  the  holes 
were  pools  of  water. 

An  indescribable  footpath  wound  through  an  inextric- 
able labyrinth,  sometimes  as  thorny  as  a  heath,  sometimes 
as  miry  as  a  marsh. 

The  night  was  very  dark. 

From  time  to  time,  far  away  in  the  darkness,  they  could 
hear  a  dog  bark.  The  smuggler  then  made  bends  or 
zigzags,  turned  sharply  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  and 
sometimes  retraced  his  steps. 

Cournet,  jumping  hedges,  striding  over  ditches,  stum- 
bling at  every  moment,  slipping  into  sloughs,  laying  hold  of 
briers,  with  his  clothes  in  rags,  his  hands  bleeding,  dying 
with  hunger,  battered  about,  wearied,  worn  out,  almost 
exhausted,  followed  his  guide  gaily. 

At  every  minute  he  made  a  false  step  ;  he  fell  into  every 
bog,  and  got  up  covered  with  mud.  At  length  he  fell  into 
a  pond.     It  was  several  feet  deep.     This  washed  him. 

"  Bravo  ! "  he  said.  "  I  am  very  clean,  but  I  am  very 
cold. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  as  Henry  had  promised 
him,  they  reached  Messine,  a  Belgian  village.  The  two 
Custom  House  lines  had  been  cleared.  Cournet  had  noth- 
ing more  to  fear,  neither  from  the  Custom  House  nor  from 
the  coup  (Tetat,  neither  from  men  nor  from  dogs. 

lie  gave  Henry  the  second  fifty  francs,  and  continued 
his  journey  on  foot,  trusting  somewhat  to  chance. 

It  was  not  until  towards  evening  that  he  reached  a  rail- 
way station.  He  got  into  a  train,  and  at  nightfall  he 
arrived  at  the  Southern  Railway  Station  at  Brussels. 

He  had  left  Paris  on  the  preceding  morning,  had  not 
slept  an  hour,  had  been  walking  all  night,  and  had  eaten 
nothing.  On  searching  in  his  pocket  he  missed  his  pocket- 
book,  but  found  a  crust  of  bread.     He  was  more  delighted 


378  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

at  the  discovery  of  the  crust  than  grieved  at  the  loss  of  his 
pocket-book.  lie  carried  his  money  in  a  waistband  ;  the 
pocket-book,\vhich  had  probably  disappeared  in  the  pond, 
contained  his  letters,  and  amongst  others  an  exceedingly 
liseful  letter  of  introduction  from  his  friend  M.  Ernest 
Koechlin,  to  the  Representatives  Guilgot  and  Carlos  Forel, 
who  at  that  moment  were  refugees  at  Brussels,  and  lodged 
at  the  Hotel  de  Brabant. 

On  leaving  the  railway  station  he  threw  himself  into  a 
cab,  and  said  to  the  coachman, — 

«  Hotel  de  Brabant." 

He  heard  a  voice  repeat,  "  Hotel  de  Brabant."  He  put 
out  his  head  and  saw  a  man  writing  something  in  a  note- 
book with  a  pencil  by  the  light  of  a  street-lamp. 

It  was  probably  some  police  agent. 

Without  a  passport,  without  letters,  without  papers,  he 
was  afraid  of  being  arrested  in  the  night,  and  he  was  long- 
ing for  a  good  sleep.  t  A  good  bed  to-night,  he  thought, 
and  to-morrow  the  Deluge !  At  the  Hotel  de  Brabant  he 
paid  the  coachman,  but  did  not  go  into  the  hotel.  More- 
over, he  would  have  asked  in  vain  for  the  Representa- 
tives Forel  and  Guilgot ;  both  were  there  under  false 
names. 

He  took  to  wandering  about  the  streets.  It  was  eleven 
o'clock  at  night,  and  for  a  long  time  he  had  begun  to  feel 
utterly  worn  out. 

At  length  he  saw  a  lighted  lamp  with  the  inscription 
"  Hotel  de  la  Monnaie." 

He  walked  in. 

The  landlord  came  up,  and -looked  at  him  somewhat 
askance. 

He  then  thought  of  looking  at  himself. 

His  unshaven  beard,  his  disordered  hair,  his  cap  soiled 
with  mud,  his  blood-stained  hands,  his  clothes  in  rags,  lie 
looked  horrible. 

He  took  a  double  louis  out  of  his  waistband,  and  put  it 
on  the  table  of  the  parlor,  which  he  had  entered  and  said 
to  the  landlord, — 

"  In  truth,  sir,  I  am  not  a  thief,  I  am  a  proscript ;  money 
is  now  my  only  passport.  I  have  just  come  from  Paris,  I 
wish  to  eat  first  and  sleep  afterwards." 

The  landlord  was  touched,  took  the  double  louis,  and 
gave  him  bed  and  supper. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  379 

Next  clay,  while  he  was  still  sleeping,  the  landlord  came 
into  his  room,  woke  him  gently,  and  said  to  him, — 

"  Now,  sir,  if  I  were  you,  I  should  go  and  see  Baron 
Hody." 

"  Who  and  what  is  Baron  Hody  ?"  asked  Cournet,  half 
asleep. 

The  landlord  explained  to  him  who  Baron  ITody  was. 
When  I  had  occasion  to  ask  the  same  question  as  Cournet, 
I  received  from  three  inhabitants  of  Brussels  the  three 
answers  as  follows  : — 

"  He  is  a  dog." 

"  He  is  a  polecat." 

"  He  is  a  hyena." 

There  is  probably  some  exaggeration  in  these  three 
answers. 

A  fourth  Belgian  whom  I  need  not  specify  confined 
himself  to  saying  to  me, — 

"  He  is  a  beast." 

As  to  his  public  functions,  Baron  ITody  was  what  they 
call  at  Brussels  "  The  Administrator  of  Public  Safety ;  " 
that  is  to  say,  a  counterfeit  of  the  Prefect  of  Police,  half 
Carlier,  half  Maupas. 

Thanks  to  Baron  Hody,  who  has  since  left  the  place, 
and  who,  moreover,  like  M.  de  Montalembert,  was  a 
"  mere  Jesuit,"  the  Belgian  police  at  that  moment  was  a 
compound  of  the  Russian  and  Austrian  police.  I  have 
read  strange  confidential  letters  of  this  Baron  Body.  In 
action  and  in  style  there  is  nothing  more  cynical  and 
more  repulsive  than  the  Jesuit  police,  when  they  unveil 
their  secret  treasures.  These  are  the  contents  of  the  un- 
buttoned cassock. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking  (December,  1851), 
the  Clerical  party  had  joined  itself  to  all  the  forms  of 
Monarchy  ;  and  this  Baron  Hody  confused  Orleanism  with 
Legitimate  right.     I  simply  tell  the  tale.     Nothing  more. 

"  Baron  Hody.  Very  well,  I  will  to  go  him,"  said 
Cournet. 

He  got  up,  dressed  himself,  brushed  his  clothes  as  well 
as  he  could,  and  asked  the  landlord,  "  Where  is  the  Police 
office  ?  " 

"  At  the  Ministry  of  Justice." 

In  fact  this  is  the  case  in  Brussels;  the  police  adminis- 
tration forms  part  of  the  Ministry  of  Justice,  an  arrange- 


380  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

merit  which  does  not  greatly  raise  the  police  and  some- 
what lowers  justice. 

Cournet  went  there,  and  was  shown  into  the  presence 
of  this  personage. 

Baron  Hody  did  him  the  honor  to  ask  him  sharply, — 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  A  refugee,"  answered  Cournet ;  "  I  am  one  of  those 
whom  the  coup  cVetat  has  driven  from  Paris. 

"  Your  profession  ?  " 

"  Ex-naval  officer." 

"  Ex-naval  officer !  "  exclaimed  Baron  Hody  in  a  much 
gentler  tone,  "  did  you  know  His  Royal  Highness  the 
Prince  de  Joinville  ?  " 

"  I  have  served  under  him." 

It  was  the  truth.  Cournet  had  served  under  M.  de 
Joinville,  and  prided  himself  on  it. 

At  this  statement  the  administrator  of  Belgian  safety 
completely  unbent,  and  said  to  Cournet,  with  the  most 
gracious  smile  that  the  police  can  find,  "  That's  all  right, 
sir  ;  stay  here  as  long  as  you  please  ;  we  close  Belgium  to 
the  Men  of  the  Mountain,  but  we  throw  it  widely  open  to 
men  like  you." 

When  Cournet  told  me  this  answer  of  Ilody's,  I  thought 
that  my  fourth  Belgian  was  right. 

A  certain  comic  gloom  was  mingled  at  times  with  these 
tragedies.  Barthelemy  Terrier  was  a  Representative  of 
the  people,  and  a  proscript.  They  gave  him  a  special  pass- 
port for  a  compulsory  route  as  far  as  Belgium  for  himself 
and  his  wife.  Furnished  with  this  passport  he  left  with 
a  woman.  This  woman  was  a  man.  Preveraud,  a  landed 
proprietor  at  Donjon,  one  of  the  most  prominent  men  in 
the  Department  of  Allier,  was  Terrier's  brother-in-law. 
When  the  coup  cVetat  broke  out  at  Donjon,  Preveraud 
had  taken  up  arms  and  fulfilled  his  duty,  had  combated 
the  outrage  and  defended  the  law.  For  this  he  had  been 
condemned  to  death.  The  justice  of  that  time,  as  we 
know.  Justice  executed  justice.  For  this  crime  of  being 
an  honest  man  they  had  guillotined  Charlet,  guillotined 
Cuisinier,  guillotined  Cirasse.  The  guillotine  was  an 
instrument  of  the  reign.  Assassination  by  the  guillotine 
was  one  of  the  means  of  order  of  that  time.  It  was  nec- 
essary to  save  Preveraud.  He  was  little  and  slim  :  they 
dressed  him  as  a  woman.    He  was  not  sufficiently  pretty 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  381 

for  them  not  to  cover  his  face  with  a  thick  veil.  They 
put  the  brave  and  sturdy  hands  of  the  combatant  in  a  muff. 
Thus  veiled  and  a  little  filled  out  with  padding,  Preve- 
raud  made  a  charming  woman.  He  became  Madame  Ter- 
rier, and  his  brother-in-law  took  him  away.  They  crossed 
Paris  peaceably,  and  without  any  other  adventure  than  an 
imprudence  committed  by  Preveraud,  who,  seeing  that 
the  shaft-horse  of  a  wagon  had  fallen  down,  threw  aside 
his  muff,  lifted  his  veil  and  his  petticoat,  and  if  Terrier, 
in  dire  alarm,  had  not  stopped  him,  he  would  have  helped 
the  carter  to  raise  his  horse.  Had  a  serge nt  de  villeheen 
there,  Preveraud  would  have  been  captured.  Terrier 
hastened  to  thrust  Preveraud  into  a  carriage,  and  at  night- 
fall they  left  for  Brussels.  They  were  alone  in  the  car- 
riage, each  in  a  corner  and  face  to  face.  All  went  well  as 
far  as  Amiens.  At  Amiens  station  the  door  was  opened, 
and  a  gendarme  entered  and  seated  himself  by  the  side  of 
Preveraud.  The  gendarme  asked  for  his  passport,  Ter- 
rier showed  it  him  ;  the  little  woman  in  her  corner,  veiled 
and  silent,  did  not  stir,  and  the  gendarme  found  all  in  due 
form.  lie  contented  himself  witli  saying,  "  We  shall 
travel  together,  I  am  on  duty  as  far  as  the  frontier." 

The  train,  after  the  ordinary  delay  of  a  few  minutes, 
again  started.  The  night  was  dark.  Terrier  had  fallen 
asleep.  Suddenly  Preveraud  felt  a  knee  press  against  his, 
it  was  the  knee  of  the  policeman.  A  boot  placed  itself 
softly  on  his  foot,  it  was  a  horse-soldier's  boot.  An  idyll 
had  just  germinated  in  the  gendarme's  soul.  He  first 
tenderly  pressed  Preveraud's  knee,  and  then  emboldened 
by  the  darkness  of  the  hour  and  by  the  slumbering  hus- 
band, he  ventured  his  hand  as  far  as  her  dress,  a  circum- 
stance foreseen  by  Moliere,  but  the  fair  veiled  one  was 
virtuous.  Preveraud,  full  of  surprise  and  rage,  gently 
pushed  back  the  gendarme's  hand.  The  danger  was  ex- 
treme. Too  much  love  on  the  part  of  the  gendarme,  one 
audacious  step  further,  would  bring  about  the  unexpected, 
would  abruptly  change  the  eclogue  into  an  official  indict- 
ment, would  reconvert  the  amorous  satyr  into  a  stony- 
hearted policeman,  would  transform  Tircis  into  Vidocq  ; 
and  then  this  strange  thing  would  be  seen,  a  passenger 
guillotined  because  a  gendarme  had  committed  an  out- 
rage. The  danger  increased  every  moment.  Terrier  was 
sleeping.     Suddenly   the  train  stopped.     A  voice  cried, 


382  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  Quievram !  "  and  the  door  was  opened.  They  were  in 
Belgium.  The  gendarme,  obliged  to  stop  here,  and  to  re- 
enter France,  rose  to  get  out,  and  at  the  moment  when  he 
stepped  on  to  the  ground  he  heard  behind  him  these 
expressive  words  coming  from  beneath  the  lace  veil,  "  Be 
off,  or  I'll  break  your  jaw !  " 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    MILITARY    COMMISSIONS   AND    THE    MIXED    COMMISSIONS. 

Justice  sometime  meets  with  strange  adventures. 

This  old  phrase  assumed  a  new  sense. 

The  code  ceased  to  be  a  safeguard.  The  law  became 
something  which  had  sworn  fealty  to  a  crime.  Louis 
Bonaparte  appointed  judges  by  whom  one  felt  oneself 
stopped  as  in  the  corner  of  a  wood.  In  the  same  manner 
as  the  forest  is  an  accomplice  through  its  density,  so  the 
legislation  was  an  accomplice  by  its  obscurity.  What  it 
lacked  at  certain  points  in  order  to  make  it  perfectly  dark 
they  added.  How  ?  By  force.  Purely  and  simply.  By 
decree.  /Sicjubeo.  The  decree  of  the  17th  of  February 
was  a  masterpiece.  This  decree  completed  the  proscrip- 
tion of  the  person,  by  the  proscription  of  the  name. 
Domitian  could  not  have  done  better.  Human  conscience 
was  bewildered ;  Bight,  Equity,  Reason  felt  that  the  mas- 
ter had  over  them  the  authority  that  a  thief  has  over 
a  purse.  No  reply.  Obey.  Nothing  resembles  those 
infamous  times. 

Every  iniquity  was  possible.  Legislative  bodies  super- 
vened and  instilled  so  much  gloom  into  legislation  that  it 
was  easy  to  achieve  a  baseness  in  this  darkness. 

A  successful  coiq>  d'etat  does  not  stand  upon  ceremony. 
This  kind  of  success  permits  itself  everything. 

Facts  abound.  But  we  must  abridge,  we  will  only 
present  them  briefly. 

There  were  two  species  of  Justice ;  the  Military  Commis- 
sions and  the  Mixed  Commissions. 

The  Military  Commissions  sat  in  judgment  with  closed 
doors.     A  colonel  presided. 

In  Paris  alone  there  were  three  Military  Commissions; 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  383 

each  received  a  thousand  bills  of  indictment.  The  Judge 
of  Instruction  sent  these  accusations  to  the  Procureur  of 
the  Republic,  Lascoux,  who  transmitted  them  to  the 
Colonel  President.  The  Commission  summoned  the 
accused  to  appear.  The  accused  himself  was  his  own  hill 
of  indictment.  They  searched  him,  that  is  to  say,  they 
"  thumbed "  him.  The  accusing  document  was  short. 
Two  or  three  lines.     Such  as  this,  for  example, — 

Name.  Christian  name.  Profession.  A  sharp  fellow. 
Goes  to  the  Cafe.  Reads  the  papers.  Speaks.  Danger- 
ous. 

The  accusation  was  laconic.  The  judgment  was  still 
less  prolix.     It  was  a  simple  sign. 

The  bill  of  indictment  having  been  examined,  the  judges 
having  been  consulted,  the  colonel  took  a  pen,  and  put  at 
the  end  of  the  accusing  line  one  of  three  signs: — 

—  +  o 

—  signified  consignment  to  Lambessa. 

+  signified  transportation  to  Cayenne.  (The  dry  guillo- 
tine.    Death. ) 

o  signified  acquittal. 

While  this  justice  was  at  work,  the  man  on  whose  case 
they  were  working  was  sometimes  still  at  liberty,  he  was 
going  and  coming  at  his  ease  ;  suddenly  they  arrested 
him,  and  without  knowing  what  they  wanted  with  him, 
he  left  for  Lambessa  or  for  Cayenne. 

His  family  was  often  ignorant  of  what  had  become  of 
him. 

People  asked  of  a  wife,  of  a  sister,  of  a  daughter,  of  a 
mother, — 

"Where  is  your  husband?" 

"  Where  is  your  brother?" 

"  Where  is  your  father?" 

"  Where  is  your  son  ?  " 

The  wife,  the  sister,  the  daughter,  the  mother  an- 
swered,— 

"  I  do  not  know." 

In  the  Allier  eleven  members  of  one  family  alone,  the 
Pre veraud  family  of  Donjon,  were  struck  down,  one  by 
the  penalty  of  death,  the  others  by  banishment  and  trans- 
portation. 

A  wine-seller  of  the  Batignolles,  named  Brisadoux,  was 


384  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

transported  to  Cayenne  for  this  line  in  his  deed  of  accu- 
sation :  His  shop  is  frequented  by  Socialists. 

Here  is  a  dialogue,  word  for  word,  and  taken  from  life, 
between  a  colonel  and  his  convicted  prisoner : — 

"  You  are  condemned." 

"Indeed!     Why?" 

"  In  truth  I  do  not  exactly  know  myself.  Examine 
your  conscience.     Think  what  you  have  done." 

"I  ?" 

"  Yes,  you." 

"  How  I  ?  " 

"You  must  have  done  something." 

"  No.  I  have  done  nothing.  I  have  not  even  done  my 
duty.  I  ought  to  have  taken  my  gun,  gone  down  into  the 
street,  harangued  the  people,  raised  barricades ;  I  re- 
mained at  home  stupidly  like  a  sluggard  "  (the  accused 
laughs) ;  "  that  is  the  offence  of  which  I  accuse  myself." 

"  You  have  not  been  condemned  for  that  offence. 
Think  carefully." 

"  I  can  think  of  nothing." 

«  What !     You  have  not  been  to  the  cafefn 

"  Yes,  I  have  breakfasted  there." 

"  Have  you  not  chatted  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  perhaps." 

"  Have  you  not  laughed  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  have  laughed." 

"At  whom?    At  what?" 

"  At  what  is  going  on.     It  is  true  I  was  wrong  to  laugh." 

"  At  the  same  time  you  talked  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Of  whom?" 

"  Of  the  President." 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  what  may  be  said  with  justice,  that  he  had 
broken  his  oath." 

"  And  then  ?  " 

"  That  he  had  not  the  right  to  arrest  the  Represent- 
atives." 

"  You  said  that  ?  " 

"  Yes.  And  I  added  that  he  had  not  the  right  to  kill 
people  on  the  boulevard.  .  .  ." 

Here  the  condemned  man  interrupted  himself  and 
exclaimed, — ■ 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  385 

"  And  thereupon  they  send  me  to  Cayenne  !  " 

The  judge  looks  fixedly  at  the  prisoner,  and  answers, — 

«  Well,  then  ?  " 

Another  form  of  justice  : — 

Three  miscellaneous  personages,  three  removable  func- 
tionaries, a  Prefect,  a  soldier,  a  public  prosecutor,  whose 
only  conscience  is  the  sound  of  Louis  Bonaparte's  bell, 
seated  themselves  at  a  table  and  judged.  Whom?  You, 
me,  us,  everybody.  For  what  crimes  ?  They  invented 
crimes.  In  the  name  of  what  laws  ?  They  invented 
laws.  What  penalties  did  they  inflict?  They  invented 
penalties.  Did  they  know  the  accused?  Xo.  Did  they 
listen  to  him?  Xo.  What  advocates  did  they  listen  to? 
None.  What  witnesses  did  they  question?  Xone.  What 
deliberation  did  they  enter  upon?  Xone.  What  public 
did  they  call  in  ?  Xone.  Thus,  no  public,  no  deliberation, 
no  counsellors,  no  witnesses,  judges  who  are  not  magis- 
trates, a  jury  where  none  are  sworn  in,  a  tribunal  which  is 
not  a  tribunal,  imaginary  offences,  invented  penalties,  the 
accused  absent,  the  law  absent;  from  all  these  things 
which  resembled  a  dream  there  came  forth  a  reality  :  the 
condemnation  of  the  innocent. 

Exile,  banishment,  transportation,  ruin,  home-sickness, 
death,  and  despair  for  40,000  families. 

That  is  what  History  calls  the  Mixed  Commissions. 

Ordinarily  the  great  crimes  of  State  strike  the  great 
heads,  and  content  themselves  with  this  destruction  ;  they 
roll  like  blocks  of  stone,  all  in  one  piece,  and  break  the 
great  resistances ;  illustrious  victims  suffice  for  them. 
But  the  Second  of  December  had  its  refinements  of  cruelty ; 
it  required  in  addition  petty  victims.  Its  appetite  for  ex- 
termination extended  to  the  poor  and  to  the  obscure,  its 
anger  and  animosity  penetrated  as  faras  the  lowest  class; 
it  created  fissures  in  the  social  subsoil  in  order  to  diffuse 
the  proscription  there;  the  local  triumvirates,  nicknamed 
"mixed  mixtures,"  served  it  for  that.  Xot  one  head 
escaped,  however  humble  and  puny.  They  found  means 
to  impoverish  the  indigent,  to  ruin  those  dying  of  hunger, 
to  spoil  the  disinherited;  the  coup  iTet<it  achieved  this 
wonderful  feat  of  adding  misfortune  to  misery.  Bonaparte, 
it  seems,  took  the  trouble  to  hate  a  mere;  peasant  ;  the 
vine-dresser  was  torn  from  his  vine,  the  laborer  from  his 
furrow,  the  mason  from  his  scaffold,  the  weaver  from  his 
25 


386  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

loom.  Men  accepted  this  mission  of  causing  the  immense 
public  calamity  to  fall,  morsel  by  morsel,  upon  the  hum- 
blest walks  of  life.  Detestable  task !  To  crumble  a 
catastrophe  upon  the  little  and  on  the  weak. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  RELIGIOUS     INCIDENT. 

A  little  religion  can  be  mingled  with  this  justice. 
Here  is  an  example. 

Frederick  Morin,  like  Arnauld  de  l'Ariege,  was  a  Cath- 
olic Republican.  He  thought  that  the  souls  of  the  victims 
of  the  4th  of  December,  suddenly  cast  by  the  volleys  of 
the  coup  d'etat  into  the  infinite  and  the  unknown,  might 
need  some  assistance,  and  he  undertook  the  laborious  task 
of  having  a  mass  said  for  the  repose  of  these  souls.  But 
the  priests  wished  to  keep  the  masses  for  their  friends. 
The  group  of  Catholic  Republicans  which  Frederick  Morin 
headed  applied  successively  to  all  the  priests  of  Paris ; 
but  met  with  a  refusal.  They  applied  to  the  Archbishop : 
again  a  refusal.  As  many  masses  for  the  assassin  as  they 
liked,  but  for  the  assassinated  not  one.  To  pray  for  dead 
men  of  this  sort  would  be  a  scandal.  The  refusal  was 
determined.  How  should  it  be  overcome  ?  To  do  with- 
out a  mass  would  have  appeared  easy  to  others,  but  not  to 
these  staunch  believers.  The  worthy  Catholic  Democrats 
with  great  difficulty  at  length  unearthed  in  a  tiny  sub- 
urban parish  a  poor  old  vicar,  who  consented  to  mumble 
in  a  whisper  this  mass  in  the  ear  of  the  Almighty,  while 
begging  Him  to  say  nothing  about  it. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HOW    THEY    CAME    OUT    OF    HAM. 

On  the  night  of  the  7th  and  8th  of  January,  Charras 
was  sleeping.  The  noise  of  his  bolts  being  drawn  awoke 
him. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  387 

"  So  then  !  "  said  he,  "  they  are  going  to  put  us  in  close 
confinement."     And  he  went  to  sleep  again. 

An  hour  afterwards  the  door  was  opened.  The  com- 
mandant of  the  fort  entered  in  full  uniform,  accompanied 
by  a  police  agent  carrying  a  torch. 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"Colonel,"  said  the  Commandant,  "dress  yourself  at 
once." 

"What  for?" 

"  You  are  about  to  leave." 

"  Some  more  rascality,  T  suppose ! " 

The  Commandant  was  silent.    Charras  dressed  himself. 

As  he  finished  dressing,  a  short  young  man,  dressed  in 
black,  came  in.     This  young  man  spoke  to  Charras. 

"  Colonel,  you  are  about  to  leave  the  fortress,  you  are 
about  to  quit  France.  I  am  instructed  to  have  you  con- 
ducted to  the  frontier." 

Charras  exclaimed, — 

"If  I  am  to  quit  France  I  will  not  leave  the  fortress. 
This  is  yet  another  outrage.  They  have  no  more  the  right 
to  exile  me  than  they  had  the  right  to  imprison  me.  I  have 
on  my  side  the  Law,  Right,  my  old  services,  my  commis- 
sion.    I  protest.     Who  are  you,  sir?" 

"  I  am  the  Private  Secretary  of  the  Minister  of  the 
Interior." 

"  Ah  !  it  is  you  who  are  named  Leopold  Lehon." 

The  young  man  cast  down  his  eyes. 

Charras  continued, — 

"  You  come  on  the  part  of  some  one  whom  they  call 
'  Minister  of  the  Interior,'  M.  de  Morny,  I  believe.  I 
know  M.  de  Morny.  A  bald  young  man  ;  he  has  played 
the  game  where  people  lose  their  hair;  and  now  he  is 
playing  the  game  where  people  risk  their  heads." 

The  conversation  was  painful.  The  young  man  was 
deeply  interested  in  the  toe  of  his  boot. 

After  a  pause,  however,  lie  ventured  to  speak, — 

"  M.  Charras,  I  am  instructed  to  say  that  if  you  want 
money " 

Charras  interrupted  him  impetuously. 

"Hold  your  tongue,  sir!  not  another  word.  I  have 
served  my  country  five-and-twenty  years  as  an  officer, 
under  fire,  at  the  peril  of  my  life,  always  for  honor,  never 
for  gain.     Keep  your  money  for  your  own  set !  " 


388  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  But,  sir- 


Silence  !  Money  which  passes  through  your  hands 
would  soil  mine." 

Another  pause  ensued,  which  the  private  secretary 
again  broke, — 

"  Colonel,  you  will  be  accompanied  by  two  police  agents 
who  have  special  instructions,  and  I  should  inform  you 
that  you  are  ordered  to  travel  with  a  false  passport,  and 
under  the  name  of  Vincent." 

"  Good  heavens !  "  said  Charras  ;  "  this  is  really  too 
much.  Who  is  it  imagines  that  they  will  make  me  travel 
by  order  with  a  false  passport,  and  under  a  false  name?" 
And  looking  steadily  at  M.  Leopold  Lehon,  "  Know,  sir, 
that  my  name  is  Charras  and  not  Vincent,  and  that  I  be- 
long to  a  family  whose  members  have  always  borne  the 
name  of  their  father." 

They  set  out. 

They  journeyed  by  carriage  as  far  as  Creil,  which  is  on 
the  railway. 

At  Creil  station  the  first  person  whom  Charras  saw  was 
General  Changarnier. 

"  Ah !  it  is  you,  General." 

The  two  proscripts  embraced  each  other.  Such  is 
exile. 

"  What  the  deuce  are  they  doing  with  you? "  asked  the 
General. 

"  What  they  are  probably  doing  with  you.  These 
vagabonds  are  making  me  travel  under  the  name  of 
Vincent." 

"And  me,"  said  Changarnier,  "under  the  name  of 
Leblanc." 

"  In  that  case  they  ought  at  least  to  have  called  me 
Lerouge,"  said  Charras,  with  a  burst  of  laughter. 

In  the  meantime  a  group,  kept  at  a  distance  by  the  police 
agents,  had  formed  round  them.  People  had  recognized 
them  and  saluted  them.  A  little  child,  whose  mother 
could  not  hold  him  back,  ran  quickly  to  Charms  and  took 
his  hand. 

They  got  into  the  train  apparently  as  free  as  other 
travellers.  Only  they  isolated  them  in  empty  compart- 
ments, and  each  was  accompanied  by  two  men,  who  sat 
one  at  the  side  and  the  other  facing  him,  and  who  never 
took  their  eyes  off  him.    The  keepers  of  General  Chan- 


TIIE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  389 

gamier  were  of  ordinary  strength  and  stature.  Those  of 
Charras  were  almost  giants.  Charras  is  exceedingly  tall ; 
they  topped  him  hy  an  entire  head.  These  men  who 
were  galley  sergeants,  had  been  carabineers ;  these  spies 
had  been  heroes. 

Charras  questioned  them.  They  had  served  when  quite 
young,  from  1813.  Thus  they  had  shared  the  bivouac  of 
Napoleon ;  now  they  ate  the  same  bread  as  Vidocq.  The 
soldier  brought  to  such  a  sorry  pass  as  this  is  a  sad  sight. 

The  pocket  of  one  of  them  was  bulged  out  with  some- 
thing which  he  was  hiding  there. 

When  this  man  crossed  the  station  in  company  with 
Charras,  a  lady  traveller  said, — 

"  Has  he  got  M.  Thiers  in  his  pocket  ?  " 

What  the  police  agent  was  hiding  was  a  pair  of  pistols. 
Under  their  long,  buttoned-up  and  doubled-breasted  frock 
coats  these  men  were  armed.  They  were  ordered  to  treat 
"  those  gentlemen  "  with  the  most  profound  respect,  but 
in  certain  circumstances  to  blow  out  their  brains. 

The  prisoners  had  each  been  informed  that  in  the  eyes 
of  the  different  authorities  whom  they  would  meet  on  the 
road  they  would  pass  for  foreigners,  Swiss  or  Belgians,' 
expelled  on  account  of  their  political  opinions,  and  that 
the  police  agents  would  keep  their  title  of  police  agents, 
and  would  represent  themselves  as  charged  with  recon- 
ducting these  foreigners  to  the  frontier. 

Two-thirds  of  the  journey  were  accomplished  without 
any  hindrance.     At  Valenciennes  an  incident  occurred. 

The  coup  d'etat  having  succeeded,  zeal  reigned  para- 
mount. No  task  was  any  longer  considered  despicable. 
To  denounce  was  to  please ;  zeal  is  one  of  the  forms  of 
servitude  towrards  which  people  lean  the  most  willingly. 
The  general  became  a  common  soldier,  the  prefect  became 
a  commissary  of  police,  the  commissary  of  police  became 
a  police  spy. 

The  commissary  of  police  at  Valenciennes  nimself  su- 
perintended the  inspection  of  passports.  For  nothing  in 
the  world  would  he  have  deputed  this  important  office  to 
a  subordinate  inspector.  When  they  presented  him  the 
passport  of  the  so-called  Leblanc,  he  looked  the  so-called 
Leblanc  full  in  the  face,  started,  and  exclaimed, — 

"  You  are  General  Changarnier  !  " 

"  That  is  no  affair  of  mine,"  said  the  General. 


390  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Upon  this  the  two  keepers  of  the  General  protested  and 
exhibited  their  papers,  perfectly  drawn  up  in  due  form. 

"  Mr.  Commissary,  we  are  Government  agents.  Here 
are  our  proper  passports." 

"  Improper  ones,"  said  the  General. 

The  Commissary  shook  his  head.  He  had  been  em- 
ployed in  Paris,  and  had  been  frequently  sent  to  the  head- 
quarters of  the  staff  at  the  Tuileries,  to  General  Chan- 
garnier.    He  knew  him  very  well. 

"  This  is  too  much  !  "  exclaimed  the  police  agents.  They 
blustered,  declared  that  they  were  police  functionaries 
on  a  special  service,  that  they  had  instructions  to  conduct 
to  the  frontier  this  Leblanc,  expelled  for  political  reasons, 
swore  by  all  the  gods,  and  gave  their  word  of  honor  that 
the  so-called  Leblanc  was  really  named  Leblanc. 

"  I  do  not  much  believe  in  words  of  honor,"  said  the 
Commissary. 

"  Honest  Commissary,"  muttered  Changarnier,  "  you 
are  right.  Since  the  2d  of  December  words  of  honor  and 
oaths  are  no  more  than  worthless  paper  money." 

And  then  he  began  to  smile. 

The  Commissary  became  more  and  more  perplexed. 
The  police  agents  ended  by  invoking  the  testimony  of 
the  prisoner  himself. 

"  Now,  sir,  tell  him  your  name  yourself." 

"  Get  out  of  the  difficulty  yourselves,"  answered  Chan- 
garnier. 

All  this  appeared  most  irregular  to  the  mind  of  a  pro- 
vincial alguazil. 

It  seemed  evident  to  the  Commissary  of  Valenciennes 
that  General  Changarnier  was  escaping  from  Ham  under 
a  false  name  with  a  false  passport,  and  with  false  agents 
of  police,  in  order  to  mislead  the  authorities,  and  that  it 
was  a  plot  to  escape  which  was  on  the  point  of  succeed- 
ing. 

"  Come  down,  all  three  of  you  ! "  exclaimed  the  Commis- 
sary. 

The  General  gets  down,  and  on  putting  foot  to  the 
ground  notices  Charras  in  the  depths  of  his  compartment 
between  his  two  bullies. 

"  Oho  !     Charras,  you  are  there  !  "  he  cries. 

"Charras!"  exclaimed  the  Commissary.  "Charras 
there  !     Quick !  the  passports  of  these  gentlemen !  " 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  391 

And  looking  Charras  in  the  face, — 

"  Are  you  Colonel  Charras  ?  " 

"  Egad !  "  said  Charras. 

Yet  another  complication.  It  was  now  the  turn  of 
Charras's  bullies  to  bluster.  They  declared  that  Charras 
was  the  man  called  Vincent,  displayed  passports  and 
papers,  swore  and  protested.  The  Commissary's  suspi- 
cions were  fully  confirmed. 

"  Very  well,"  said  he,  "  I  arrest  everybody." 

And  he  handed  over  Changarnier,  Charras,  and  the 
four  police  agents  to  the  gendarmes.  The  Commissary 
saw  the  Cross  of  Honor  shining  in  the  distance.  He  was 
radiant. 

The  police  arrested  the  police.  It  happens  sometimes 
that  the  wolf  thinks  he  has  seized  a  victim  and  bites  his 
own  tail. 

The  six  prisoners — for  now  there  were  six  prisoners — • 
were  taken  into  a  parlor  at  the  railway  station.  The 
Commissary  informed  the  town  authorities.  The  town 
authorities  hastened  hither,  headed  by  the  sub-prefect. 

The  sub-prefect,  who  was  named  Censier,  comes  in,  and 
does  not  know  whether  he  ought  to  salute  or  to  question, 
to  grovel  in  the  dust  or  to  keep  his  hat  on  bis  head. 
These  poor  devils  of  magistrates  and  local  officials  were 
very  much  exercised  in  their  minds.  General  Changar- 
nier had  been  too  near  the  Dictatorship  not  to  make  them 
thoughtful.  Who  can  foresee  the  course  of  events? 
Everything  is  possible.  Yesterday  called  itself  Cavai- 
gnac,  to-day  calls  itself  Bonaparte,  to-morrow  may  call 
itself  Changarnier.  Providence  is  really  cruel  not  to  let 
sub-prefects  have  a  peep  at  the  future. 

It  is  sad  for  a  respectable  functionary,  who  would  ask 
for  nothing  better  than  to  be  servile  or  arrogant  according 
to  circumstances,  to  be  in  danger  of  lavishing  his  plat- 
itudes on  a  person  who  is  perhaps  going  to  rot  forever  in 
exile,  and  who  is  nothing  more  than  a  rascal,  or  to  risk 
being  insolent  to  a  vagabondof  a  postscript  who  is  capable 
of  coming  back  a  conqueror  in  six  months'  time,  and  of 
becoming  the  Government  in  his  turn.  What  was  to  be 
done?  And  then  they  were  spied  upon.  This  takes  place 
between  officials.  The  slightest  word  would  he  mali- 
ciously interpreted,  the  slightest  gesture  would  be  laid  to 
their  discredit.     How  should  he  keep  on  good  terms  at 


392  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

the  same  time  this  Cabbage,  which  is  called  To-day,  and 
that  Goat,  which  is  called  To-morrow?  To  ask  too  many 
questions  would  offend  the  General,  to  render  to  many 
salutations  would  annoy  the  President.  How  could  he  be 
at  the  same  time  very  much  a  sub-prefect,  and  in  some 
degree  a  lacquey  ?  How  could  he  combine  the  appearance 
of  obsequiousness,  which  would  please  Changarnier,  with 
the  appearance  of  authority,  which  would  please  Bona- 
parte ? 

The  sub-prefect  thought  to  get  out  of  the  difficulty  by 
saying,  "  General,  you  are  my  prisoner,"  and  by  adding, 
with  a  smile,  "  Do  me  the  honor  of  breakfasting  with  me  ?  " 
He  addressed  the  same  words  to  Charras. 

The  General  refused  curtly. 

Charras  looked  at  him  fixedly,  and' did  not  answer  him. 

Doubts  regarding  the  identity  of  the  prisoners  came  to 
the  mind  of  the  sub-prefect.  He  whispered  to  the  Com- 
missary, "  Are  you  quite  sure  ?  "  "  Certainly,"  said  the 
Commissary. 

The  sub-prefect  decided  to  address  himself  to  Charras, 
and  dissatisfied  with  the  manner  in  which  his  advances 
had  been  received,  asked  him  somewhat  sharply,  "  But,  in 
short,  who  are  you  ?  " 

Charras  answered,  "We  are  packages." 

And  turning  to  his  keepers  who  were  now  in  their  turn 
in  keeping : — 

"Apply  to  our  exporters.  Ask  our  Custom  House 
officers.     It  is  a  mere  matter  of  goods  traffic." 

They  set  the  electric  telegraph  to  work.  Valenciennes, 
alarmed,  questioned  Paris.  The  sub-prefect  informed  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior  that,  thanks  to  a  strict  supervision, 
which  he  had  trusted  to  no  one  but  himself,  he  had  just 
effected  an  important  capture,  that  he  had  just  discovered 
a  plot,  had  saved  the  President,  had  saved  society,  had 
saved  religion,  etc.,  that  in  one  word  he  had  just  arrested 
General  Changarnier  and  Colonel  Charras,  who  had  escaped 
that  morning  from  the  fort  of  Ham  with  false  passports, 
doubtless  for  the  purpose  of  heading  a  rising,  etc.,  and 
that,  in  short,  he  asked  the  Government  what  was  to  be 
done  with  the  two  prisoners. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  the  answer  arrived  : — "  Let  them 
go  on  their  way." 

The  police  perceived  that  in  a  burst  of  zeal  they  had 


THE  H 1 STORY  OF  A  CRIME.  393 

pushed  profundity  to  the  point  of  stupidity.    That  some- 
times happens. 

The  next  train  carried  away  the  prisoners,  restored, 
not  to  liberty,  but  to  their  keepers. 

They  passed  Quievrain. 

They  got  down  from  the  carriage,  and  got  in  again. 

When  the  train  again  started  Charras  heaved  the  deep, 
joyous  sigh  of  a  freed  man,  and  said,  "  At  last!  " 

He  raised  his  eyes,  and  perceived  his  two  jailers  by  his 
side. 

They  had  got  up  behind  him  into  the  carriage. 

"  Ah,  indeed !  "  he  said  to  them  ;  "  you  there ! " 

Of  these  two  men  there  was  only  one  who  spoke,  that 
one  answered, — 

"Yes,  Colonel.' 

"  What  are  you  doing  here?  " 

"  We  are  keeping  watch  over  you." 

"  But  we  are  in  Belgium." 

"  Possibly." 

"  Belgium  is  not  France." 
Ah  that  may  be." 

"  But  suppose  I  put  my  head  out  of  the  carriage  ?  Sup- 
pose I  call  out  ?  Suppose  I  had  you  arrested  '?  Suppose 
I  reclaimed  my  liberty?" 

"  You  will  not  do  all  that,  Colonel." 

"  How  will  you  prevent  me  ?  " 

The  police  agent  showed  the  butt-end  of  his  pistol  and 
said  "  Thus." 

Charras  burst  out  laughing,  and  asked  them,  "  Where 
then  are  you  going  to  leave  me  ?  " 

«  At  Brussels." 

"  That  is  to  say,  that  at  Brussels  you  will  salute  me 
with  your  cap ;  but  that  at  Mons  you  will  salute  me  with 
your  pistol." 

"  As  you  say,  Colonel." 

"  In  truth,"  said  Charras,  "  it  does  not  matter  to  me. 
It  is  King  Leopold's  business.  The  Bonaparte  treats 
countries  as  he  has  treated  the  Representatives.  lie  has 
violated  the  Assembly,  he  violates  Belgium.  But  all  the 
same,  you  are  a  medley  of  strange  rascals.  lie  who  is  at 
the  top  is  a  madman,  those  who  are  beneath  are  block- 
heads.    Very  well,  my  friends,  let  me  go  to  sleep." 

And  he  went  to  sleep. 


394  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Almost  the  same  incident  happened  nearly  at  the  same 
moment  to  Generals  Changarnier  and  Lamoriciere  and  to 
M.  Baze. 

The  police  agents  did  not  leave  General  Changarnier 
until  they  had  reached  Moiis.  There  they  made  him  get 
down  from  the  train,  and  said  to  him,  "  General,  this  is 
your  place  of  residence.     We  leave  you  free." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  this  is  my  place  of  residence,  and  I 
am  free?    Well,  then,  good-night." 

And  he  sprang  lightly  hack  into  the  carriage  just  as  the 
train  was  starting,  leaving  behind  him  two  galley  ser- 
geants dumfounded. 

The  police  released  Charras  at  Brussels,  but  did  not 
release  General  Lamoriciere.  The  two  police  agents 
wished  to  compel  him  to  leave  immediately  for  Cologne. 
The  General,  who  was  suffering  from  rheumatism  which 
he  had  caught  at  Ham,  declared  that  he  would  sleep  at 
Brussels. 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  police  agents. 

They  followed  him  to  the  II6tel  de  Bellevue.  They 
spent  the  night  there  with  him.  He  had  considerable 
difficulty  to  prevent  them  from  sleeping  in  his  room. 
Next  day  they  carried  him  off,  and  took  him  to  Cologne — 
violating  Prussian  territory  after  having  violated  Belgian 
territory. 

The  coup  d'etat  was  still  more  impudent  with  M.  Baze. 

They  made  M.  Baze  journey  with  his  wife  and  his 
children  under  the  name  of  Lassalle.  He  passed  for  the 
servant  of  the  police  agent  who  accompanied  him. 

They  took  him  thus  to  Aix-la-Chapelle. 

There,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  in  the  middle  of  the 
street,  the  police  agents  deposited  him  and  the  whole  of 
his  family,  without  a  passport,  without  papers,  without 
money.  M.  Baze,  indignant,  was  obliged  to  have  recourse 
to  threats  to  induce  them  to  take  him  and  identify  him 
before  a  magistrate.  It  was,  perhaps,  part  of  the  petty 
joys  of  Bonaparte  to  cause  a  Questor  of  the  Assembly  to 
be  treated  as  a  vagrant. 

On  the  night  of  the  7th  of  January,  General  Bedeau, 
although  he  was  not  to  leave  till  the  next  day,  was 
awakened  like  the  others  by  the  noise  of  bolts.  He  did 
not  understand  that  they  were  shutting  him  in,  but  on  the 
contrary,  believed  that  they  were  releasing  M.  Baze,  his 


TLE  HISTORY  OF  A   CRIME.  395 

neighbor  in  the  adjoining  cell.  He  cried  through  the 
door,  "  Bravo,  Baze  !  " 

In  fact,  every  day  the  Generals  said  to  the  Questor, 
"  You  have  no  business  here,  this  is  a  military  fortress. 
One  of  these  fine  mornings  you  will  be  thrust  outside  like 
Roger  du  No  id." 

Nevertheless  General  Bedeau  heard  an  unusual  noise  in 
the  fortress.  He  got  up  and  "  knocked  "  for  General  Leflo, 
his  neighbor  in  the  cell  on  the  other  side,  with  whom 
he  exchanged  frequent  military  dialogues,  little  flattering 
to  the  coup  cfetat.  General  Leflo  answered  the  knock- 
ing, but  he  did  not  know  any  more  than  General  Bedeau. 

General  Bedeau's  window  looked  out  on  the  inner  court- 
yard of  the  prison.  lie  went  to  this  window  and  saw 
lanterns  flashing  hither  and  thither,  species  of  covered 
carts,  horsed,  and  a  company  of  the  48th  under  arms.  A 
moment  afterwards  he  saw  General  Changarnier  come 
into  the  courtyard,  get  into  a  carriage,  and  drive  off. 
Some  moments  elapsed,  then  he  saw  Charras  pass. 
Charras  noticed  him  at  the  window,  and  cried  out  to  him, 
"  Mons ! " 

In  fact  he  believed  he  was  going  to  Mons,  and  this  made 
General  Bedeau,  on  the  next  day,  choose  Mons  as  his 
residence,  expecting  to  meet  Charras  there. 

Charras  having  left,  M.  Leopold  Lehon  came  in  ac- 
companied by  the  Commandant  of  the  fort,  lie  saluted 
Bedeau,  explained  his  business,  and  gave  his  name. 
General  Bedeau  confined  himself  to  saying,  "  They  banish 
us  ;  it  is  an  illegality,  and  one  more  indignity  added  to 
the  others.  However,  with  the  people  who  send  you  one 
is  no  longer  surprised  at  anything." 

They  did  not  send  him  away  till  the  next  day.  Louis 
Bonaparte  had  said,  "  We  must  'space  out'  the  Generals." 

The  police  agent  charged  with  escorting  General 
Bedeau  to  Belgium  was  one  of  those  who,  on  the  '2d  of 
December,  had  arrested  General  Cavaignac.  He  told 
General  Bedeau  that  they  had  had  a  moment  of  uneasi- 
ness when  arresting  General  Cavaignac:  the  picket  of 
fifty  men,  which  had  been  told  off  to  assist  the  police  hav- 
ing failed  them. 

In  the  compartment  of  the  railway  carriage  which  was 
taking  General  Bedeau  into  Belgium  there  was  a  lady, 
manifestly  belonging  to  good  society,  of  very  distinguished 


396  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

appearance,  and  who  was  accompanied  by  three  little 
children.  A  servant  in  livery,  who  appeared  to  be  a 
German,  had  two  of  the  children  on  his  knees,  and  lav- 
ished a  thousand  little  attentions  on  them.  However,  the 
General,  hidden  by  the  darkness,  and  muffled  up,  like  the 
police  agents,  in  the  collar  of  his  mantle,  paid  little  atten- 
tion to  this  group.  When  they  reached  Quievrain,  the 
lady  turned  to  him  and  said,  "  General,  I  congratulate 
you,  you  are  now  in  safety." 

The  General  thanked  her,  and  asked  her  name. 

"  Baroness  Coppens,"  she  answered. 

It  may  be  remembered  that  it  was  at  M.  Coppens's 
house,  70,  Rue  Blanche,  that  the  first  meeting  of  the  Left 
had  taken  place  on  December  2d. 

"  You  have  charming  children  there,  madam,"  said  the 
General,  and,"  he  added,  "an  exceedingly  good  servant." 

"  It  is  my  husband,"  said  Madame  Coppens. 

M.  Coppens,  in  fact,  had  remained  five  weeks  buried  in 
a  hiding-place  contrived  in  his  own  house.  He  had 
escaped  from  France  that  very  night  under  the  cover  of 
his  own  livery.  They  had  carefully  taught  their  children 
their  lesson.  Chance  had  made  them  get  into  the  same 
carriage  as  General  Bedeau  and  the  two  bullies  who  were 
keeping  guard  over  him,  and  throughout  the  night  Madame 
Coppens  had  been  in  terror  lest,  in  the  presence  of  the 
policeman,  one  of  the  little  ones  awakening,  should  throw 
its  arms  around  the  neck  of  the  servant  and  cry  "  Papa ! " 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

A    RETROSPECT. 

Louis  Bonaparte  had  tested  the  majority  as  engineers 
test  a  bridge;  he  had  loaded  it  with  iniquities,  encroach- 
ments, enormities,  slaughters  on  the  Place  du  Havre,  cries 
of  "Long  live  the  Emperor,"  distributions  of  money  to 
the  troops,  sales  of  Bonapartist  journals  in  the  streets, 
prohibition  of  Republican  and  parliamentary  journals, 
reviews  at  Satory,  speeches  at  Dijon ;  the  majority  bore 
everything. 

"  Good,"  said  he,  "  It  will  carry  the  weight  of  the  coup 
d'etat.'" 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  397 

Let  us  recall  the  facts.  Before  the  2d  of  Decemher  the 
coup  cVetat  was  being  constructed  in  detail,  here  and 
there,  a  little  every  where,  with  exceeding  impudence,  and 
yet  the  majority  smiled.  The  Representative  Pascal 
Duprat  had  been  violently  treated  by  police  agents.  "That 
is  very  funny,"  said  the  Right.  The  Representative  Dain 
was  seized.  "  Charming."  The  Representative  Sartin 
was  arrested.  "Bravo."  One  fine  morning  when  all  the 
hinges  had  been  well  tested  and  oiled,  and  when  all  the 
wires  were  well  fixed,  the  coup  cVttat  was  carried  out  all 
at  once,  abruptly.  The  majority  ceased  to  laugh,  but  the 
trick  was  done.  It  had  not  perceived  that  for  a  long  time 
past,  while  it  was  laughing  at  the  strangling  of  others,  the 
cord  was  round  its  own  neck. 

Let  us  maintain  this,  not  to  punish  the  past,  but  to 
illuminate  the  future.  Many  months  before  being  carried 
out,  the  coup  d'etat  had  been  accomplished.  The  day 
having  come,  the  hour  having  struck,  the  mechanism  be- 
ing completely  wound  up,  it  had  only  to  be  set  going.  It 
was  bound  not  to  fail,  and  nothing  did  fail.  What  would 
have  been  an  abyss  if  the  majority  had  done  its  duty,  and 
had  understood  its  joint  responsibility  with  the  Left,  was 
not  even  a  ditch.  The  inviolability  had  been  demolished 
by  those  who  were  inviolable.  The  hand  of  gendarmes 
had  become  as  accustomed  to  the  collar  of  the  Represent- 
atives as  to  the  collar  of  thieves :  the  white  tie  of  the 
statesman  was  not  even  rumpled  in  the  grasp  of  the  galley 
sergeants,  and  one  can  admire  the  Vieomte  de  Falloux— 
oh,  candor ! — for  being  dumfounded  at  being  treated  like 
Citizen  Sartin. 

The  majority,  going  backwards,  and  ever  applauding 
Bonaparte,  fell  into  the  hole  which  Bonaparte  had  dug 
for  it. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

CONDUCT    OF    THE    LEFT. 

The  conduct  of  the  Republican  Left  in  this  grave  crisis 
of  the  'id  of  December  was  memorable. 

The  flag  of  the  Law  was  on  the  ground,  in  the  mire  of 
universal  treason,  under  the  feet  of  Louis  Bonaparte;  the 


398  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Left  raised  this  flag,  washed  away  the  mire  with  its  blood, 
unfurled  it,  waved  it  before  the  eyes  of  the  people,  and 
from  the  2d  to  the  5th  of  December  held  Bonaparte  at 
bay. 

A  few  men,  a  mere  handful,  120  Representatives  of  the 
people  escaped  by  chance  from  arrest,  plunged  in  dark- 
ness and  in  silence,  without  even  possessing  that  cry  of 
the  free  press  which  sounds  the  tocsin  to  human  intellects, 
and  which  encourages  the  combatants,  without  generals 
under  their  orders,  without  soldiers,  without  ammunition, 
went  down  into  the  streets,  resolutely  barred  the  way 
against  the  coup  d'etat,  and  gave  battle  to  this  monstrous 
crime,  which  had  taken  all  its  precautions,  which  was 
mail-clad  in  every  part,  armed  to  the  teeth,  crowding 
round  it  forests  of  bayonets,  and  making  a  pack  of  mortars 
and  cannons  give  tongue  in  its  favor. 

They  had  that  presence  of  mind,  which  is  the  most 
practical  kind  of  courage  ;  they  had,  while  lacking  every- 
thing else,  the  formidable  improvisation  of  duty,  which 
never  loses  heart.  They  had  no  printing-offices,  they 
obtained  them  ;  they  had  no  guns,  they  found  them  ;  they 
had  no  balls,  they  cast  them ;  they  had  no  powder,  they 
manufactured  it ;  they  had  nothing  but  paving-stones,  and 
from  thence  they  evolved  combatants. 

It  is  true  that  these  paving-stones  were  the  paving- 
stones  of  Paris,  stones  which  change  themselves  into 
men. 

Such  is  the  power  of  Right,  that,  during  four  days  these 
hundred  and  twenty  men,  who  had  nothing  in  their  favor 
but  the  goodness  of  their  cause,  counterbalanced  an  army 
of  100,000  soldiers.  At  one  moment  the  scale  turned  on 
their  side.  Thanks  to  them,  thanks  to  their  resistance, 
seconded  by  the  indignation  of  honest  hearts,  there  came 
an  hour  when  the  victory  of  the  law  seemed  possible,  and 
even  certain.  On  Thursday,  the  4th,  the  coiu>  d'etat  tot- 
tered, and  was  obliged  to  support  itself  by  assassination. 
We  have  seen  that  without  the  butchery  of  the  boulevards, 
if  he  had  not  saved  his  perjury  by  a  massacre,  if  he  had 
not  sheltered  his  crime  by  another  crime,  Louis  Bonaparte 
was  lost. 

During  the  long  hours  of  this  struggle,  a  struggle  with- 
out a  truce,  a  struggle  against  the  army  during  the  day, 
and  against  the  police    during  the    night, — an  unequal 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  309 

struggle,  where  all  the  strength  and  all  the  rage  was  on 
one  side,  and,  as  we  have  just  said,  nothing  but  Right  on 
the  other,  not  one  of  these  hundred  and  twenty  Representa- 
tives, not  a  single  one  failed  at  the  call  of  duty,  not  one 
shunned  the  danger,  not  one  drew  back,  not  one  wearied, 
— all  these  heads  placed  themselves  resolutely  under  the 
axe,  and  for  four  days  waited  for  it  to  fall. 

To-day  captivity,  transportation,  expatriation,  exile, 
the  axe  has  fallen  on  nearly  all  these  heads. 

I  am  one  of  those  who  have  had  no  other  merit  in  this 
struggle  than  to  rally  into  one  unique  thought  the 
courage  of  all  ;  but  let  me  here  heartily  render  justiee  to 
those  men  amongst  whom  I  pride  myself  with  having  for 
three  years  served  the  holy  cause  of  human  progress,  to 
this  Left,  insulted,  calumniated,  unappreciated,  and  daunt- 
less, which  was  always  in  the  breach,  and  which  did 
not  repose  for  a  single  day,  which  recoiled  none  the  more 
before  the  military  conspiracy  than  before  the  parlia- 
mentary conspiracy,  and  which,  entrusted  by  the  people 
with  the  task  of  defending  them,  defended  them  even  when 
abandoned  by  themselves  ;  defended  them  in  the  tribune 
with  speech,  and  in  the  street  with  the  sword. 

When  the  Committee  of  Resistance  in  the  sitting  at 
which  the  decree  of  deposition  and  of  outlawry  was 
drawn  up  and  voted,  making  use  of  the  discretionary 
power  which  the  Left  had  confided  to  it,  decided  that  all 
the  signatures  of  the  Republican  Representatives  remain- 
ing at  liberty  should  be  placed  at  the  foot  of  the  decree, 
it  was  a  bold  stroke  ;  the  Committee  did  not  conceal  from 
itself  that  it  was  a  list  of  proscription  offered  to  the 
victorious  coup  d'etat  ready  drawn  up,  and  perhaps  in  its 
inner  conscience  it  feared  that  some  would  disavow  it, 
and  protest  against  it.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  next  day 
we  received  two  letters,  two  complaints.  They  were  from 
two  Representatives  who  had  been  omitted  from  the  list, 
and  who  claimed  the  honor  of  being  reinstated  there.  I 
reinstate  these  two  Representatives  here,  in  their  right 
of  being  prescripts.  Here  are  their  names — Anglade  and 
Pradie. 

From  Tuesday,  the  '2d,  to  Friday,  the  5th  of  December, 
the  Representatives  of  tin1  Left  and  the  Committee,  dogged, 
worried,  hunted  down,  always  on  the  point  of  being  dis- 
covered and  taken,  that  is  to  say — massacred  ;  repaired 


400  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

for  the  purpose  of  deliberating,  to  twenty-seven  different 
houses,  shifted  twenty-seven  times  their  place  of  meeting, 
from  their  first  gathering  in  the  Rue  Blanche  to  their  last 
conference  at  Raymond's.  They  refused  the  shelters  which 
were  offered  them  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  wishing 
always  to  remain  in  the  centre  of  the  combat.  During 
these  changes  they  more  than  once  traversed  the  right 
bank  of  Paris  from  one  end  to  the  other,  most  of  the  time 
on  foot,  and  making  long  circuits  in  order  not  to  be 
followed.  Everything  threatened  them  with  danger  ; 
their  number,  their  well-known  faces,  even  their  pre- 
cautions. In  the  populous  streets  there  was  danger,  the 
police  were  permanently  posted  there ;  in  the  lonely  streets 
there  was  danger,  because  the  goings  and  comings  were 
more  noticed  there. 

They  did  not  sleep,  they  did  not  eat,  they  took  what 
they  could  find,  a  glass  of  water  from  time  to  time,  a 
morsel  of  bread  here  and  there.  Madame  Landrin  gave 
us  a  basin  of  soup,  Madame  Grevy  the  remainder  of  a  cold 
pie.  We  dined  one  evening  on  a  little  chocolate  which  a 
chemist  had  distributed  in  a  barricade.  At  Jeunesse's, 
in  the  Rue  de  Grammont,  during  the  night  of  the  3d, 
Michel  de  Bourges  took  a  chair,  and  said,  "  This  is  my 
bed."  Were  they  tired  ?  They  did  not  feel  it.  The  old 
men,  like  Ronjat,  the  sick,  like  Boysset,  all  went  forward. 
The  public  peril,  like  a  fever,  sustained  them. 

Our  venerable  colleague,  Lamennais,  did  not  come,  but 
he  remained  three  days  without  going  to  bed,  buttoned 
up  in  his  old  frock  coat,  his  thick  boots  on  his  feet,  ready 
to  march.  He  wrote  to  the  author  these  three  lines, 
which  it  is  impossible  not  to  quote  : — "  You  are  heroes 
without  me.  This  pains  me  greatly.  I  await  your  orders. 
Try,  then,  to  find  me  something  to  do,  be  it  but  to  die." 

In  these  meetings  each  man  preserved  his  usual  demean- 
or. At  times  one  might  have  thought  it  an  ordinary  sitting 
in  one  of  the  bureaux  of  the  Assembly.  There  was  the  calm 
of  every  day,  mingled  with  the  firmness  of  decisive  crises. 
Edgar  Quinet  retained  all  his  lofty  judgment,  Noel  Par- 
fait  all  his  mental  vivacity,  Yvan  all  his  vigorous  and  in- 
telligent penetration,  Labrousse  all  his  animation.  In  a 
corner  Pierre  Lefranc,  pamphleteer  and  ballad- writer,  but  a 
pamphleteer  like  Courier,  and  a  ballad-writer  like  Beranger 
smiled  at  the  grave  and  stern  words  of  Dupontde  Bussac. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  401 

All  that  brilliant  group  of  young  orators  of  the  Left, 
Bancel  with  his  powerful  ardor,  Versigny  and  Victor 
Chauffour  with  their  youthful  daring.  Sain  with  his  cool- 
headedness  which  reveals  strength,  Farconnet  with  his 
gentle  voice  and  his  energetic  inspiration,  lavishing  his 
efforts  in  resisting  the  coup  d'etat,  sometimes  taking  part 
in  the  deliberations,  at  others  amongst  the  people,  prov- 
ing that  to  be  an  orator  one  must  possess  all  the  qualifi- 
cations of  a  combatant.  De  Flotte,  indefatigable,  was 
ever  ready  to  traverse  all  Paris.  Xavier  Durrieu  was 
courageous,  Dulac  dauntless,  Charamaule  fool-hardy. 
Citizens  and  Paladins.  Courage  !  who  would  have  dared 
to  exhibit  none  amongst  all  these  men,  of  whom  not  one 
trembled  ?  Un trimmed  beards,  torn  coats,  disordered 
hair,  pale  faces,  pride  glistening  in  every  eye.  In  the 
houses  where  they  were  received  they  installed  them- 
selves as  best  they  could.  If  there  were  no  sofas  or  chairs, 
some,  exhausted  in  strength,  but  not  in  heart,  seated 
themselves  on  the  floor.  All  became  copyists  of  the  de- 
crees and  proclamations  ;  one  dictated,  ten  wrote.  They 
wrote  on  tables,  on  the  corners  of  furniture,  on  their 
knees.  Frequently  paper  was  kicking,  pens  were  wanting. 
These  wretched  trifles  created  obstacles  at  the  most  critical 
times.  At  certain  moments  in  the  history  of  peoples  an 
inkstand  where  the  ink  is  dried  up  may  prove  a  public 
calamity.  Moreover,  cordiality  prevailed  among  all,  all 
shades  of  difference  were  effaced.  In  the  secret  sittings 
of  the  Committee  Madier  de  Montjau,  that  firm  and 
generous  heart,  De  Flotte,  brave  and  thoughtful,  a  fight- 
ing philosopher  of  the  devolution,  Carnot,  accurate,  cold, 
tranquil,  immovable,  Jules  Favre,  eloquent,  courageous, 
admirable  through  his  simplicity  and  his  strength,  inex- 
haustible in  resources  as  in  sarcasms,  doubled,  by  com- 
bining them,  the  diverse  powers  of  their  minds. 

Michel  de  Dourges,  seated  in  a  corner  of  the  fireplace, 
or  leaning  on  a  table  enveloped  in  his  great  coat,  his  black 
silk  cap  on  his  head,  had  an  answer  for  every  suggestion, 
gave  back  to  occurrences  blow  for  blow,  was  on  his  guard 
for  danger,  difficulty,  opportunity,  necessity,  for  his  is  one 
of  those  wealthy  natures  which  have  always  something 
ready  either  in  their  intellect  or  in  their  imagination. 
Words  of  advice  crossed  without  jostling  each  oilier. 
These  men  entertained  no  illusion.  They  knew  that  they 
26 


402  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

had  entered  into  a  life-and-death  struggle.  They  had  no 
quarter  to  expect.  They  had  to  do  with  the  Man  who 
had  said,  "  Crush  everything."  They  knew  the  bloody 
words  of  the  self-styled  Minister,  Moray.  These  words 
the  placards  of  Saint- Arnaud  interpreted  by  decrees,  the 
Praetorians  let  loose  in  the  street  interpreted  them  by 
murder.  The  members  of  the  Insurrectionary  Committee 
and  the  Representatives  assisting  at  the  meetings  were 
not  ignorant  that  wherever  they  might  be  taken  they 
would  be  killed  on  the  spot  by  bayonet-thrusts.  It  was 
the  fortune  of  this  war.  Yet  the  prevailing  expression 
on  every  face  was  serenity  ;  that  profound  serenity  which 
comes  from  a  happy  conscience.  At  times  this  serenity 
rose  to  gaiety.  They  laughed  willingly  and  at  every- 
thing. At  the  torn  trousers  of  one,  at  the  hat  which 
another  had  brought  back  from  the  barricade  instead  of 
his  own,  at  the  comforter  of  a  third.  "Hide  your  big 
body,"  they  said  to  him.  They  were  children,  and  every- 
thing amused  them.  On  the  morning  of  the  4th  Mathieu 
de  la  Drome  came  in.  He  had  organized  for  his  part  a 
committee  which  communicated  with  the  Central  Com- 
mittee, he  came  to  tell  us  of  it.  He  had  shaved  off  his 
fringe  of  beard  so  as  not  to  be  recognized  in  the  streets. 
"You  look  like  an  Archbishop,"  said  Michel  de  Bourges 
to  him,  and  there  was  a  general  laugh.  And  all  this,  with 
this  thought  which  every  moment  brought  back ;  the  noise 
which  is  heard  at  the  door,  the  key  which  turns  in  the 
lock  is  perhaps  Death  coming  in. 

The  Representatives  and  the  Committee  were  at  the 
mercy  of  chance.  More  than  once  they  could  have  been 
captured,  and  they  were  not;  either  owing  to  the  scruples 
of  certain  police  agents  (where  the  deuce  will  scruples 
next  take  up  their  abode  ?)  or  that  these  agents  doubted 
the  final  result,  and  feared  to  lay  their  hand  heedlessly 
upon  possible  victors.  If  Vassal,  the  Commissary  of 
Police,  who  met  us  on  the  morning  of  the  4th,  on  the  pave- 
ment of  the  Rue  des  Moulins,  had  wished,  we  might  have 
been  taken  that  day.  He  did  not  betray  us.  But  these 
were  exceptions.  The  pursuit  of  the  police  was  none  the 
less  ardent  and  implacable.  At  Marie's,  it  may  be 
remembered  that  the  sergents  de  ville  and  the  gendarmes 
arrived  ten  minutes  after  we  had  left  the  house,  and  that 
they  even  ransacked  under  the  beds  with  their  bayonets. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  403 

Amongst,  the  Representatives  there  were  several 
Constituents,  and  at  their  head  Bastide.  Bastide,  in  1848, 
had  been  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs.  During  the  second 
night,  meeting  in  the  Rue  Popincourt,  they  reproached 
him  with  several  of  his  actions.  "  Let  me  first  get  my- 
self killed,"  he  answered, "  and  then  you  can  reproach  me 
with  what  you  like."  And  he  added,  "  How  can  you  dis- 
trust me,  who  am  a  Republican  up  to  the  hilt?"  Bastide 
would  not  consent  to  call  our  resistance  the  "  insurrec- 
tion," he  called  it  the  "counter-insurrection."  He  said, 
"  Victor  Hugo  is  right.  The  insurgent  is  at  the  Elysee." 
It  was  my  opinion,  as  we  have  seen,  that  we  ought  to 
bring  the  battle  at  once  to  an  issue,  to  defer  nothing,  to 
reserve  nothing ;  I  said,  "  We  must  strike  the  coup  (Veldt 
while  it  is  hot."  Bastide  supported  me.  In  the  combat 
he  was  impassive,  cold,  gay  beneath  his  coldness.  At  the 
Saint  Antoine  barricade,  at  the  moment  when  the  guns  of 
the  coup  d'etat  were  levelled  at  the  Representatives  of  the 
people,  he  said  smilingly  to  Madier  de  Montjau,  "Ask 
Schcelcher  what  he  thinks  of  the  abolition  of  the  penalty 
of  death."  (Schcelcher,  like  myself,  at  this  supreme 
moment,  would  have  answered,  "  that  it  ought  to  be 
abolished.")  In  another  barricade  Bastide,  compelled  to 
absent  himself  for  a  moment,  placed  his  pipe  on  a  paving- 
stone.  They  found  Bastide's  pipe,  and  they  thought  him 
dead.  He  came  back,  and  it  was  hailing  musket-balls  ;  he 
said,  "My  pipe?"  he  relighted  it  and  resumed  the  right. 
Two  balls  pierced  his  coat. 

When  the  barricades  were  constructed,  the  Republican 
Representatives  spread  themselves  abroad,  and  distrib- 
uted themselves  amongst  them.  Nearly  all  the  Repre- 
sentatives of  the  Left  repaired  to  the  barricades,  assisting 
either  to  build  them  or  to  defend  them.  Besides  the  great 
exploit  at  the  Saint  Antoine  barricade,  where  Schodcher 
was  so  admirable,  Esquiros  went  to  the  barricade  of  the 
Rue  de  Charonne,  De  Flotte  to  those  of  the  Pantheon  and 
of  the  Chapelle  Saint  Denis,  Madier  de  Montjau  to  those 
of  Belleville  and  the  Rue  Aumaire,  Doutre  and  Pelletier 
to  that  of  the  Mairie  of  the  Fifth  Arrondissement,  Brives 
to  that  of  the  Rue  Beaubourg,  Arnauld  de  PAru'ge  to 
that  of  the  Rue  du  Petit-Reposoir,  Vigiiier  to  that  of  the 
Rue  Pagevin,Versigny  to  that  of  the  Hue  Joigneaux  ;  Du- 
pont  dc  Bussac  to  that  of  the  Carre  Saint  Martin;  Carlos 


404  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

Forel  and  Boysset  to  that  of  the  Rue  Rambuteau.  Doutre 
received  a  sword-cut  on  his  head,  which  cleft  his  hat  ; 
Bourzat  had  four  balls  in  his  overcoat ;  Baudin  was  killed ; 
Gaston  Dussoubs  was  ill  and  could  not  come ;  his  brother, 
Denis  Dussoubs,  replaced  him.     Where?    In  the  tomb. 

Baudin  fell  on  the  first  barricade,  Denis  Dussoubs  on 
the  last. 

I  was  less  favored  than  Bourzat;  I  only  had  three  balls 
in  my  overcoat,  and  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  say  whence 
they  came.     Probably  from  the  boulevard. 

After  the  battle  was  lost  there  was  no  general  helter- 
skelter,  no  rout,  no  flight.  All  remained  hidden  in  Paris 
ready  to  reappear,  Michel  in  the  Rue  d' Alger,  myself  in 
the  Rue  de  Navarin.  The  Committee  held  yet  another 
sitting  on  Saturday,  the  6th,  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night. 
Jules  Favre,  Michel  de  Bourges,  and  myself,  we  came 
during  the  night  to  the  house  of  a  generous  and  brave 
woman,  Madame  Didier.  Bastide  came  there  and  said 
to  me,  "  If  you  are  not  killed  here,  you  are  going  to  enter 
upon  exile.  For  myself,  I  am  going  to  remain  in  Paris. 
Take  me  for  your  lieutenant."    I  have  related  this  incident. 

They  hoped  for  the  9th  (Tuesday)  a  resumption  of  arms, 
which  did  not  take  place.  Malarmet  had  announced  it  to 
Dupont  de  Bussac,  but  the  blow  of  the  4th  had  prostrated 
Paris.  The  populace  no  longer  stirred.  The  Repre- 
sentatives did  not  resolve  to  think  of  their  safety,  and  to 
quit  France  through  a  thousand  additional  dangers  until 
several  days  afterwards,  when  the  last  spark  of  resistance 
was  extinguished  in  the  heart  of  the  people,  and  the  last 
glimmer  of  hope  in  heaven. 

Several  Republican  Representatives  were  workmen ; 
they  have  again  become  workmen  in  exile.  Nadaud  has 
resumed  his  trowel,  and  is  a  mason  in  London.  Faure 
(du  Rhone),  a  cutler,  and  Bansept,  a  shoemaker,  felt  that 
their  trade  had  become  their  duty,  and  practise  it  in 
England.  Faure  makes  knives,  Bansept  makes  boots. 
Greppo  is  a  weaver,  it  was  he  who  when  a  prescript  made 
the  coronation  robe  of  Queen  Victoria.  Gloomy  smile  of 
Destiny.  Xoel  Parfait  is  a  proof-reader  at  Brussels ; 
Agricol  Perdiguier,  called  Avignonnais-la-Vertu,  has 
girded  on  his  leathern  apron,  and  is  a  cabinet-maker  at 
Antwerp.  Yesterday  these  men  sat  in  the  Sovereign 
Assembly.  Such  things  as  these  are  seen  in  Plutarch. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  405 

The  eloquent  and  courageous  prescript,  EmileDeschanel, 
has  created  at  Brussels,  with  a  rare  talent  of  speech,  a 
new  form  of  public  instruction,  the  Conferences.  To  him 
is  due  the  honor  of  this  foundation,  so  fruitful  and  so 
useful. 

Let  us  say  in  conclusion  that  the  National  Legislative 
Assembly  lived  badly  but  died  well. 

At  this  moment  of  the  fall,  irreparable  for  the  cowards, 
the  Right  was  worthy,  the  Left  was  great. 

Never  before  has  History  seen  a  Parliament  fall  in  this 
manner. 

February  had  blown  upon  the  Deputies  of  the  legal 
country,  and  the  Deputies  had  vanished.  M.  Sauzet  had 
sunk  down  behind  the  tribune,  and  had  gone  away  with- 
out even  taking  his  hat. 

Bonaparte,  the  other,  the  first,  the  true  Bonaparte,  had 
made  the  "Five  Hundred"  step  out  of  the  windows  of 
the  Orangery  of  Saint  Cloud,  somewhat  embarrassed  with 
their  large  mantles. 

Cromwell,  the  oldest  of  the  Bonapartes,  when  he 
achieved  his  Eighteenth  Brumaire,  encountered  scarcely 
any  other  resistance  than  a  few  imprecations  from  Milton 
and  from  Ludlow,  and  was  able  to  say  in  his  boorishly 
gigantic  language,  "  I  have  put  the  King  in  my  knapsack 
and  the  Parliament  in  my  pocket." 

We  must  go  back  to  the  Roman  Senate  in  order  to  find 
true  Curule  chairs. 

The  Legislative  Assembly,  let  us  repeat,  to  its  honor, 
did  not  lose  countenance  when  facing  the  abyss.  History 
will  keep  an  account  of  it.  After  having  betrayed  so 
many  things,  it  might  have  been  feared  that  this  As- 
sembly would  end  by  betraying  itself.  It  did  nothing  of 
the  kind.  The  Legislature,  one  is  obliged  to  remember, 
had  committed  faults  upon  faults;  the  Uoyalist  majority 
had,  in  the  most  odious  manner,  persecuted  the  Republi- 
can minority,  which  was  bravely  doing  its  duty  in  de- 
nouncing it  to  the  people;  this  Assembly  hud  had  a  very 
long  cohabitation  and  a  most  fatal  complicity  with  the 
Man  of  Crime,  who  had  ended  by  strangling  it  as  a  robber 
strangles  his  concubine  in  his  bed  ;  but  whatever  may  be 
said  of  this  fateful  Assembly,  it  did  not  exhibit  that 
wretched  vanishing  away  which  Louis  Bonaparte  hoped 
for;  it  was  not  a  coward. 


406  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

This  is  due  to  its  having  originated  from  universal 
suffrage.  Let  us  mention  this,  for  it  is  an  instructive 
lesson.  The  virtue  of  this  universal  suffrage,  which  had 
begotten  the  Assembly  and  which  the  Assembly  had 
wished  to  slay,  it  felt  in  itself  to  its  last  hour. 

The  sap  of  a  whole  people  does  not  spread  in  vain 
throughout  an  Assembly,  even  throughout  the  most 
decrepet.     On  the  decisive  day  this  sap  asserts  itself. 

The  Legislative  Assembly,  laden  as  it  may  be  with 
formidable  responsibilities,  will,  perhaps,  be  less  over- 
whelmed than  it  deserves  by  the  reprobation  of  posterity. 

Thanks  to  universal  suffrage,  which  it  had  deceived, 
and  which  constituted  its  faith  and  its  strength  at  the 
last  moment,  thanks  to  the  Left,  which  it  had  oppressed, 
scoffed  at,  calumniated,  and  decimated,  and  which  cast 
on  it  the  glorious  reflection  of  its  heroism,  this  pitiful 
Assembly  died  a  grand  death. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

PAGE    WRITTEN    AT   BRUSSELS. 

Wetx  then,  yes,  I  will  kick  open  the  door  of  this 
Palace,  and  I  will  enter  with  you,  History !  I  will  seize 
by  the  collar  all  the  perpetrators,  continually  caught  red- 
handed  in  the  commission  of  all  these  outrages !  I  will 
suddenly  illuminate  this  cavern  of  night  with  the  broad 
daylight  of  truth ! 

Yes,  I  will  bring  in  the  daylight !  I  will  tear  down  the 
curtain,  I  will  open  the  window,  I  will  show  to  every  eye 
such  as  it  really  is,  infamous,  horrible,  wealthy,  trium- 
phant, joyous,  gilded,  besmirched — this  Elysee!  this 
Court !  this  group  !  this  heap  !  call  it  what  you  will !  this 
galley-crew !  where  writhe  and  crawl,  and  pair  and  breed 
every  baseness,  every  indignity,  every  abomination: 
filibusters,  buccaneers,  swearers  of  oaths,  Signers  of  the 
Cross,  spies,  swindlers,  butchers,  executioners,  from  the 
brigand  who  vends  his  sword,  to  the  Jesuit  who  sells  his 
God  second-hand!  This  sink  where  Baroche  elbows 
Teste !  where  each  brings  his  own  nastiness !  Magnan  his 
epaulets ;  Montalcmbert  his  religion,  Dupin  his  person ! 


THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME.  407 

And  above  all  the  innermost  circle,  the  Holy  of  Holies, 
the  private  Council,  the  snug  den  where  they  drink — 
where  they  eat — where  they  laugh — where  they  sleep — 
where  they  play — where  they  cheat — where  they  call 
Highnesses  "Thou," — where  they  wallow!  Oh!  what 
ignominies !  It  is  there !  It  is  there !  Dishonor,  base- 
ness, shame,  and  opprobrium  are  there !  Oh  History ! 
A  hot  iron  for  all  these  faces. 

It  is  there  that  they  amuse  themselves,  and  that  they 
jest,  and  that  they  banter,  and  that  they  make  sport  of 
France!  It  is  there  that  they  pocket  hap-hazard,  amid 
great  shouts  of  laughter,  the  millions  of  louis  and  the 
millions  of  votes  !  See  them,  look  at  them !  They  have 
treated  the  Law  like  a  girl,  they  are  content !  Right  is 
slaughtered,  Liberty  is  gagged,  the  flag  is  dishonored,  the 
people  are  under  their  feet.  They  are  happy !  And  who 
are  they?  What  are  these  men?  Europe  knows  not. 
One  fine  morning  it  saw  them  come  out  of  a  crime.  Noth- 
ing more.  A  parcel  of  rascals  who  vainly  tried  to  become 
celebrated,  and  who  have  remained  anonymous.  Look! 
they  are  all  there!  See  them,  I  tell  you  !  Look  at  them, 
I  tell  you!  Recognize  them  if  you  can.  Of  what  sex  are 
they?  To  what  species  do  they  belong?  Who  is  this 
one?  Is  he  a  writer?  Xo ; — he  is  a  dug.  He  gobbles 
human  flesh.  And  that  one?  Is  he  a  dog?  No,  he  is  a 
courtier — he  has  blood  on  his  paw. 

New  men,  that  is  what  they  term  them.  New,  in 
truth !  Unlooked-for,  strange,  unprecedented,  mon- 
strous! Perjury,  iniquity,  robbery,  assassination,  erected 
into  ministerial  departments,  swindling  applied  to  univers- 
al suffrage,  government  under  false  pretences,  duty  called 
crime,  crime  called  duty,  cynicism  laughing  in  the  midst 
of  atrocity, — it  is  of  all  this  that  their  newness  is  com- 
pounded. 

Now,  all  is  well,  they  have  succeeded,  they  have  a  fair 
wind,  they  enjoy  themselves  to  the  full.  They  have 
cheated  France,  they  are  dividing  the  spoil.  France  is 
a  bag,  and  they  put  their  hand  in  it.  Rummage,  for 
Heaven's  sake!  Take,  while  you  are  there;  help  your- 
selves, draw  out,  plunder,  steal!  One  wants  money, 
another  wants  situations,  another  wants  a  decorative 
collar  round  his  neck,  another  a  plume  in  his  hat,  another 
embroidery  on  his  sleeve,  another  women,  another  power, 


408  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

another  news  for  the  Bourse,  another  a  railway,  another 
wine.  I  should  think,  indeed,  that  they  are  well  satisfied. 
Picture  to  yourself  a  poor  devil  who,  three  years  ago,  bor- 
rowed ten  sous  of  his  porter,  and  who  to-day,  leaning 
voluptuously  on  the  Mbniteur,  has  only  to  sign  a  decree 
to  take  a  million.  To  make  themselves  perfectly  happy,  to 
be  able  to  devour  the  finances  of  the  State,  to  live  at  the 
expense  of  the  Treasury  like  a  son  of  the  family,  this  is 
what  is  called  their  policy.  Their  ambition  has  a  true 
name,  it  is  gluttony. 

They  ambitious  ?  Nonsense !  They  are  gluttons.  To 
govern  is  to  gamble.  This  does  not  prevent  betrayal. 
On  the  contrary,  they  spy  upon  each  other,  they  betray 
each  other.  The  little  traitors  betray  the  great  traitors. 
Pietri  looks  askance  at  Maupas,  and  Maupas  at  Carlier. 
They  all  lie  in  the  same  reeking  sewer!  They  have 
achieved  the  coup  (Vetat  in  common.  That  is  all.  Moreover 
they  feel  sure  of  nothing,  neither  of  glances,  nor  of  smiles, 
nor  of  hidden  thoughts,  nor  of  men,  nor  of  women,  nor  of 
the  lacquey,  nor  of  the  prince,  nor  of  words  of  honor,  nor 
of  birth  certificates.  Each  feels  himself  fraudulent,  and 
knows  himself  suspected.  Each  has  his  secret  aims. 
Each  alone  knows  why  he  has  done  this.  Not  one  utters 
a  word  about  his  crime,  and  no  one  bears  the  name  of  his 
father.  Ah !  may  God  grant  me  life,  and  may  Jesus  par- 
don me,  I  will  raise  a  gibbet  a  hundred  yards  high,  I  will 
take  hammer  and  nails,  and  I  will  crucify  this  Beau- 
harnais  called  Bonaparte,  between  this  Leroy  called  Saint- 
Arnaud,  and  this  Fialin  called  Persigny! 

And  I  would  drag  you  there  also,  all  of  you  accomplices ! 
This  Morny,  this  Romieu,  this  Fould,  the  Jew  senator, 
this  Delangle,  who  bears  on  his  back  this  placard :  Justice  ! 
and  this  Troplong,  this  judicial  glorificr  of  the  violation 
of  the  laws,  this  lawyer  apologist  of  the  coup  (Vetat,  this 
magistrate  flatterer  of  perjury,  this  judge  panegyrist  of 
murder,  who  will  go  down  to  posterity  with  a  sponge  filled 
with  mud  and  with  blood  in  his  hand. 

I  begin  the  battle  therefore.  With  whom?  With  the 
present  ruler  of  Europe.  It  is  right  that  this  spectacle 
should  be  given  to  the  world.  Louis  Bonaparte  is  the 
success,  is  the  intoxicated  triumph,  is  the  gay  and  fero- 
cious despotism,  opening  out  under  the  victory,  he  is  the 
mad  fulness  of  power,  seeking  limits  and  finding  none, 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  409 

neither  in  things  nor  in  men ;  Louis  Bonaparte  holds 
France,  Urbem  Roman  habit ;  and  whoever  holds  France 
holds  the  world;  he  is  master  of  the  votes,  master 
of  the  consciences,  master  of  the  people ;  he  nominates 
his  successor,  reigns  forever  over  future  electoral 
scrutinies,  disposes  of  eternity,  and  places  futurity  in  an 
envelope;  his  Senate,  his  Legislative  Body,  his  Council  of 
State,  with  heads  lowered  and  mingled  confusedly  behind 
him,  lick  his  feet;  he  drags  along  in  a  leash  the  bishops 
and  cardinals ;  he  tramples  on  the  justice  which  curses 
him,  and  on  the  judges  who  adore  him,  thirty  correspond- 
ents inform  the  Continent  that  he  has  frowned,  and  every 
electric  telegraph  vibrates  if  he  raises  his  little  ringer; 
around  him  is  heard  the  rustling  of  sabres,  and  the  drums 
beat  the  salute ;  he  sits  under  the  shadow  of  the  eagle  in 
the  midst  of  bayonets  and  of  citadels,  the  free  nations 
tremble  and  hide  their  liberties  for  fear  that  he  should 
steal  them,  the  great  American  Republic  herself  falters 
in  his  presence,  and  dares  not  withdraw  her  Ambassador 
from  him;  the  kings,  surrounded  by  their  armies,  look  at 
him  smilingly,  with  their  hearts  full  of  fear.  Where  will 
he  begin?  With  Belgium?  With  Switzerland?  With 
Piedmont  ?  Europe  expects  to  be  overrun.  He  is  capable 
of  all,  and  he  dreams  of  all. 

Well,  then!  Before  this  master,  this  triumpher,  this 
conqueror,  this  dictator,  this  Emperor,  this  all-powerful, 
there  rises  a  solitary  man,  a  wanderer,  despoiled,  ruined, 
prostrate,  proscribed,  and  attacks  him.  Louis  Napoleon 
has  ten  thousand  cannons,  and  five  hundred  thousand 
soldiers  ;  the  writer  has  his  pen  and  his  ink-stand.  The 
writer  is  nothing,  he  is  a  grain  of  dust,  he  is  a  shadow,  he 
is  an  exile  without  a  refuge,  he  is  a  vagrant  without  a 
passport,  but  he  has  by  his  side  and  fighting  with  him 
two  powers,  Bight,  which  is  invincible,  and  Truth,  which 
is  immortal. 

Assuredly,  for  this  struggle  to  (lie  death,  for  this  for- 
midable duel,  Providence  could  have  chosen  a  more  illus- 
trious champion,  a  grander  athlete.  Hut  what  matter 
men,  there,  where  it  is  the  idea  with  combats  !  Such  as 
it  is,  it  is  good,  let  us  repeat,  that  this  spectacle  should  lie 
given  to  the  world.  What  is  this  in  truth?  It  is  intel- 
lect, an  atom  which  resists  strength — a  colossus. 


410  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME. 

I  have  only  one  stone  in  my  sling,  but  that  stone  is  a 
good  one ;  that  stone  is  Justice. 

I  attack  Louis  Bonaparte  at  this  hour,  when  he  is  erect ; 
at  this  hour,  when  he  is  master.  He  is  in  his  zenith.  So 
much  the  better  ;  it  is  that  which  suits  me. 

Yes,  I  attack  Louis  Bonaparte.  I  attack  him  before 
the  world  ;  I  attack  him  in  the  presence  of  God  and  men  ; 
I  attack  him  resolutely,  desperately ;  for  the  love  of  the 
people  and  of  France.  lie  is  about  to  be  Emperor,  let  it 
be  so.  Let  there  be  at  least  one  brow  which  resists.  Let 
Louis  Bonaparte  know  that  an  Empire  may  be  taken, 
but  that  a  Conscience  cannot  be  taken. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    INFALLIBLE    BENEDICTION. 

The  Pope  approved. 

When  the  mails  brought  to  Rome  intelligence  of  the 
event  of  the  2d  of  December,  the  Pope  went  to  a  review 
held  by  General  Gemeau,  and  begged  him  to  congratulate 
Prince  Louis  Napoleon  for  him. 

There  was  a  precedent  for  this. 

On  the  12th  December,  1572,  Saint-Goard,  Ambassador 
of  Charles  the  Ninth,  King  of  France,  to  Philip  the 
Second,  King  of  Spain,  wrote  from  Madrid  to  his  master, 
Charles  the  Ninth,  "  The  news  of  the  events  of  the  day 
of  Saint  Bartholomew  have  reached  the  Catholic  King. 
Contrary  to  his  wont  and  custom,  he  has  shown  so  much 
joy,  that  he  has  manifested  it  more  openly  than  he  has 
ever  done  for  all  the  happy  events  and  good  fortune  which 
have  previously  befallen  him.  So  that  I  went  to  him 
on  Sunday  morning  at  Saint  Hieronimus,  and  having 
approached  him,  he  burst  out  laughing,  and  with  every 
demonstration  of  extreme  pleasure  and  contentment, 
began  to  praise  your  Majesty."  * 

The  hand  of  Pius  IX.  remained  extended  over  France, 
when  it  had  become  the  Empire. 

Then,  under  the  shadow  of  this  benediction,  began  an 
era  of  prosperity. 

*  "  Archives  of  the  house  of  Orange."     Page  12o,  Supplement. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CHIME.  411 


CONCLUSION. 

THE  FALL. 


CHAPTER   I. 

I  was  coming  back  from  my  fourth  exile — an  exile  in 
Belgium,  a  small  matter.  It  was  one  of  the  last  days  of 
September,  1871.  I  was  re-entering  France  by  the  Lux- 
embourg frontier.  I  had  fallen  asleep  in  the  carriage. 
Suddenly  the  jolt  of  the  train  coming  to  a  standstill 
awoke  me.     I  opened  my  eyes. 

The  train  had  stopped  in  the  middle  of  a  charming  land- 
scape. 

I  was  in  the  half-consciousness  of  an  interrupted  sleep; 
and  ideas,  as  yet  half-dreams,  hazy  and  diffuse,  hovered 
between  myself  and  reality.  T  experienced  the  unde- 
finable  and  confused  sensation  of  awakening. 

A  river  flowed  by  the  side  of  the  railway,  clear,  around 
a  bright  and  verdant  island.  This  vegetation  was  so 
thick  that  the  moor-hens,  on  reaching  it,  plunged  beneath 
it  and  disappeared.  The  river  wound  through  a  valley, 
which  appeared  like  a  huge  garden.  Apple-trees  were 
there,  which  reminded  one  of  Eve,  and  willows,  which 
made  one  think  of  Galatea.  It  was,  as  I  have  said,  in 
one  of  those  equinoctial  months  when  may  be  felt  the 
peculiar  charm  of  a  season  drawing  to  a  close.  If  it  be 
winter  which  is  passing  away,  you  hear  the  song  of  ap- 
proaching spring;  if  it  be  summer  which  is  vanishing, 
you  see  glimmering  on  the  horizon  the  undefinable  smile 
of  autumn.  The  wind  lulled  and  harmonized  all  those 
pleasant  sounds  which  compose  the  murmur  of  the  fields; 
the  tinkling  of  the  sheep-bells  seemed  to  soothe  the  hum- 
ming of  the  bees:  the  last  butterflies  met  together  with 
the  first  grapes;  this  hour  of  the  year  mingles  the  joy  <>f 
being  stiil  alive  with  the  unconscious  melancholy  of  fast 


412  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

approaching  death ;  the  sweetness  of  the  sun  was  inde- 
scribable. Fertile  fields  streaked  with  furrows,  honest 
peasants'  cottages ;  under  the  trees  a  turf  covered  with 
shade,  the  lowing  of  cattle  as  in  Virgil,  and  the  smoke  of 
hamlets  penetrated  by  rays  of  sunshine ;  such  was  the 
complete  picture.  The  clanging  of  anvils  rang  in  the  dis- 
tance, the  rhythm  of  work  amidst  the  harmony  of  nature. 
I  listened,  I  mused  vaguely.  The  valley  was  beautiful 
and  quiet,  the  blue  heavens  seemed  as  though  resting 
upon  a  lovely  circle  of  hills ;  in  the  distance  were  the 
voices  of  birds,  and  close  to  me  the  voices  of  children, 
like  two  songs  of  angels  mingled  together ;  the  universal 
purity  enshrouded  me :  all  this  grace  and  all  this  grandeur 
shed  a  golden  dawn  into  my  soul 

Suddenly  a  fellow-traveller  asked, — 

"  What  place  is  this  ?  " 

Another  answered, — 

"  Sedan." 

I  shuddered. 

This  paradise  was  a  tomb. 

I  looked  around.  The  valley  was  circular  and  hollow, 
like  the  bottom  of  a  crater ;  the  winding  river  resembled 
a  serpent ;  the  high  hills,  ranged  one  behind  the  other, 
surrounded  this  mysterious  spot  like  a  triple  line  of  inex- 
orable walls ;  once  there,  there  is  no  means  of  exit.  It 
reminded  me  of  the  amphitheatres.  An  indescribable 
disquieting  vegetation  which  seemed  to  be  an  extension  of 
the  Black  Forest,  overran  all  the  heights,  and  lost  itself 
in  the  horizon  like  a  huge  impenetrable  snare;  the  sun 
shone,  the  birds  sang,  carters  passed  by  whistling;  sheep, 
lambs,  and  pigeons  were  scattered  about,  leaves  quivered 
and  rustled ;  the  grass,  a  densely  thick  grass,  was  full  of 
flowers.     It  was  appalling. 

I  seemed  to  see  waving  over  this  valley  the  flashing  of 
the  avenging  angel's  sword. 

This  word  "  Sedan  "  had  been  like  a  veil  abruptly  torn 
aside.  The  landscape  had  become  suddenly  filled  with 
tragedy.  Those  shapeless  eyes  which  the  bark  of  trees 
delineates  on  the  trunks  were  gazing — at  what?  At 
something  terrible  and  lost  to  view. 

In  truth,  that  was  the  place !  And  at  the  moment 
when  I  Avas  passing  by  thirteen  months  all  but  a  few  days 
had  elapsed.     That  was  the  place  where  the  monstrous 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  413 

enterprise  of  the  2d  of  December  had  burst  asunder.     A 
fearful  shipwreck. 

The  gloomy  pathways  of  Fate  cannot  be  studied  with- 
out profound  anguish  of  the  heart. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Ox  the  31st  of  August,  1870,  an  army  was  reassembled, 
and  was,  as  it  were,  massed  together  under  the  walls  of 
Sedan,  in  a  place  called  the  Givonne  Valley.  This  army 
was  a  French  army — twenty-nine  brigades,  fifteen  divis- 
ions, four  army  corps — 90,000  men.  This  army  was  in 
this  place  without  any  one  being  able  to  divine  the  reason; 
without  order,  without  an  object,  scattered  about — a  spe- 
cies of  heap  of  men  thrown  down  there  as  though  with 
the  view  of  being  seized  by  some  huge  hand. 

This  army  either  did  not  entertain,  or  appeared  not 
to  entertain,  for  the  moment  any  immediate  uneasiness. 
They  knew,  or  at  least  they  thought  they  knew,  that  the 
enemy  was  a  long  way  off.  On  calculating  the  stages  at 
four  leagues  daily,  it  was  three  days'  march  distant. 
Nevertheless,  towards  evening  the  leaders  took  some  wise 
strategic  precautions;  they  protected  the  army,  which 
rested  in  the  rear  on  Sedan  and  the  Meuse,  by  two  battle 
fronts,  one  composed  of  the  7th  Corps,  and  extending 
from  Fining  to  Givonne,  the  other  composed  of  the  12th 
Corps,  extending  from  Givonne  to  Bazeilles;  a  triangle 
of  which  the  Meuse  formed  the  hypothenuse.  The  12th 
Corps,  formed  of  the  three  divisions  of  Lacretelle,  Lartigue, 
and  Wolf,  ranged  on  the  right,  witli  the  artillery,  be- 
tween the  brigades  formed  a  veritable  barrier,  having 
Bazeilles  and  Givonne  at  eaeli  end,  and  Daiguy  in  its 
centre;  the  two  divisions  of  Petit  and  Lheritier  massed 
in  the  rear  upon  two  lines  supported  this  barrier.  General 
Lebrun  commanded  the  12th  Corps.  The  7th  Corps,  com- 
manded by  General  Douay,  only  possessed  two  divisions 
— Dumont's  division  and  Gilbert's  division  and  formed 
the  other  battle  front,  covering  the  army  of  Givonne  to 
Floing  on  the  side  of  Illy  ;  this  battle  front  was  compara- 
tively weak,  too  open  on  the  side  of  Givonne,  and  only 
protected  on   the  side   of  the  Meuse  by  the  two  cavalry 


414  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

divisions  of  Margueritte  and  Bonnemains,  and  by  Guyo- 
mar's  brigade,  resting  in  squares  upon  Fioing.  Within 
this  triangle  were  encamped  the  5th  Corps,  commanded 
by  General  Wimpfen,  and  the  1st  Corps,  commanded  by 
General  Ducrot.  Michel's  cavalry  division  covered  the 
1st  Corps  on  the  side  of  Daigny ;  the  5th  supported 
itself  upon  Sedan.  Four  divisions,  each  disposed  upon 
two  lines — the  divisions  of  Lheritier,  Grandchamp,  Goze, 
and  Conseil-Dumenil — formed  a  sort  of  horseshoe,  turned 
towards  Sedan,  and  uniting  the  first  battle  front  with  the 
second.  The  cavalry  division  of  Ameil  and  the  brigade  of 
Fontanges  served  as  a  reserve  for  these  four  divisions. 
The  whole  of  the  artillery  was  upon  the  two  battle  fronts. 
Two  portions  of  the  army  were  in  confusion,  one  to  the 
right  of  Sedan  beyond  Balan,  the  other  to  the  left  of 
Sedan,  on  this  side  of  Iges.  Beyond  Balan  were  the  divis- 
ions of  Vassoigne  and  the  brigade  of  Reboul,  on  this  side 
of  Tges  were  the  two  cavalry  divisions  of  Margueritte  and 
Bonnemains. 

These  arrangements  indicated  a  profound  feeling  of 
security.  In  the  first  place  the  Emperor  Napoleon  III. 
would  not  have  come  there  if  he  had  not  been  perfectly 
tranquil.  This  Givonne  Valley  is  what  Napoleon  I.  called 
a  "  washhand  basin."  There  could  not  be  a  more  com- 
plete enclosure.  An  army  is  so  much  at  home  there  that 
it  is  too  much  so;  it  runs  the  risk  of  no  longer  being  able 
to  get  out.  This  disquieted  some  brave  and  prudent 
leaders  such  as  Wimpfen,  but  they  were  not  listened  to. 
If  absolutely  necessary,  said  the  people  of  the  Imperial 
circle,  they  could  always  be  sure  of  being  able  to  reach 
Mezieres,  and  at  the  worst  the  Belgian  frontier.  Was  it, 
however,  needful  to  provide  for  such  extreme  eventu- 
alities? In  certain  cases  foresight  is  almost  an  offence. 
They  were  all  of  one  mind,  therefore,  to  be  at  their  ease. 

If  they  had  been  uneasy  they  would  have  cut  the  bridges 
of  the  Meuse ;  but  they  did  not  even  think  of  it.  To 
what  purpose?  The  enemy  was  a  long  way  off.  The 
Emperor,  who  evidently  was  well  informed,  affirmed  it. 

The  army  bivouacked  somewhat  in  confusion,  as  we 
have  said,  and  slept  peaceably  throughout  this  night  of 
August  31,  having,  whatever  might  happen,  or  believing 
that  they  had,  the  retreat  upon  Mezieres  open  behind  it. 
They  disdained  to  take  the  most  ordinary  precautions, 


THE  TIISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  415 

they  made  no  cavalry  reconnaissances,  they  did  not  even 
place  outposts.  A  German  military  writer  has  stated 
this.*  Fourteen  leagues  at  least  separated  them  from  the 
German  army,  three  days'  march  ;  they  did  not  exactly 
know  where  it  was  ;  they  believed  it  scattered,  possess- 
ing little  unity,  badly  informed,  led  somewhat  at  random 
upon  several  points  ;it  once,  incapable  of  a  movement  con- 
verging upon  one  single  point,  like  Sedan  ;  they  believed 
that  the  Crown  Prince  of  Saxony  was  marching  on  Cha- 
lons, and  that  the  Crown  Prince  of  Prussia  was  marching 
onMetz;  they  were  ignorant  of  everything  appertaining 
to  this  army,  its  leaders,  its  plan,  its  armament,  its  effect- 
ive force.  Was  it  still  following  the  strategy  of  Gustavus 
Adolphus  ?  Was  it  still  following  the  tactics  of  Frederick 
IT.  ?  Xo  one  knew.  They  felt  sure  of  being  at  Berlin  in 
a  few  weeks.  What  nonsense!  The  Prussian  army! 
They  talked  of  this  war  as  of  a  dream,  and  of  this  army 
as  of  a  phantom. 

During  this  very  night,   while  the   French  army  was 
sleeping,  this  is  what  was  taking  place. 


CHAPTER  TIT. 

At  a  quarter  to  two  in  the  morning,  at  his  headquarters 
at  Mouzon,  Albert,  Crown  Prince  of  Saxony,  set  the 
Army  of  the  Meuse  in  motion;  the  Poyal  Guard  were 
beat  to  arms,  and  two  divisions  marched,  one  upon 
Villers-Cernay,  by  Escambre  and  Fouru-aux-Bois,  the 
other  upon  Francheval  by  Suehy  and  Fouru-Saint-Bemy. 
The  Artillery  of  the  Guard  followed. 

At  the  same  moment  the  12th  Saxon  Corps  was  beaten 
to  arms,  and  by  the  high  road  to  the  south  of  Don/.y 
reached  Lamecourt,  and  marched  upon  La  Moncelle;  the 
1st  Bavarian  Corps  marched  upon  Bazeilles,  supported  at 
TJeuilly-sur-Meuse  by  an  Artillery  Division  of  the  4th 
Corps.  The  other  division  of  the  4th  Corps  crossed  the 
Meuse  at  Mouzon,  and  massed  itself  in  reserve  at  Mairy, 
upon  the  right  bank.  These  three  columns  maintained 
close  communication  with    each   other.     The   order   wa.s 

*  M.  Harwik. 


416  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

given  to  the  advanced  guards  to  begin  no  offensive 
movement  before  five  o'clock,  and  silently  to  occupy 
Fouru-aux-Bois,  Fouru-Saint-Remy,  and  Douay.  They 
had  left  their  knapsacks  behind  them.  The  baggage- 
wagons  did  not  stir.  The  Crown  Prince  of  Saxony  was 
on  horseback  on  the  heights  of  Amblimont. 

At  the  same  time,  at  his  headquarters  at  Chemery, 
Blumenthal  was  having  a  bridge  built  over  the  Meuse 
by  the  Wurtemburg  division.  The  11th  Corps,  astir 
before  daylight,  crossed  the  Meuse  at  Dom-le-Mesnil  and 
at  Donchery,  and  reached  Vrigne-sur-Bois.  The  artillery 
followed,  and  held  the  road  from  Vrigne  to  Sedan.  The 
Wurtemburg  division  kept  the  bridge  which  it  had  built, 
and  held  the  road  from  Sedan  to  Mezieres.  At  five 
o'clock,  the  2d  Bavarian  Corps,  with  the  artillery  at  its 
head,  detached  one  of  its  divisions,  and  sent  it  by  Bulson 
upon  Frenois :  the  other  division  passed  by  Noyers,  and 
drew  up  before  Sedan,  between  Frenois  and  Wadelin- 
court,  The  artillery  of  the  Beserve  was  drawn  up  on 
the  heights  of  the  left  bank,  opposite  Donchery. 

At  the  same  time  the  6th  Cavalry  Division  was  sent 
from  Mazeray,  and  passing  by  Boutancourt  and  Bolzicourt, 
reached  the  Meuse  at  Flize ;  the  2d  Cavalry  Division  quitted 
its  encampment,  and  took  up  its  position  to  the  south  of 
Boutancourt ;  the  4th  Cavalry  Division  took  up  its  posi- 
tion to  the  south  of  Frenois :  the  1st  Bavarian  Corps 
installed  itself  at  Remilly ;  the  5th  Cavalry  Division  and 
the  6th  Corps  were  posted  to  observe,  and  all  in  line, 
and  order,  massed  upon  the  heights  waited  for  the  dawn 
to  appear.  The  Crown  Prince  of  Prussia  was  on  horse- 
back on  the  hill  of  Frenois. 

At  the  same  moment,  upon  every  point  of  the  horizon, 
other  and  similar  movements  were  taking  place  from 
every  side.  The  high  hills  were  suddenly  overrun  by  an 
immense  black  army.  Not  one  shout  of  command.  Two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men  came  silently  to  encircle 
the  Givonne  Valley. 

This  is  what  the  circle  consisted  of, — 

The  Bavarians,  the  right  wing,  at  Bazeilles  on  the 
Meuse  ;  next  to  the  Bavarians  the  Saxons,  at  La  Moncelle 
and  Daigny  ;  opposite  Givonne,  the  Roj'al  Guard ;  the 
5th  Corps  at  Saint  Menges ;  the  2d  at  Flaigneux ;  the 
Wurtemburgers  at  the  bend  of  the  Meuse,  between  Saint 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  41 1 

Menges  and  Donchery ;  Count  Stolberg  and  his  cavalry 
at  Donchery  ;  in  front,  towards  Sedan,  the  2d  Bavarian 
Army. 

All  this  was  carried  out  in  a  ghostly  manner,  in  order, 
without  a  whisper,  without  a  sound,  through  forests, 
•avines,  and  valleys.  A  tortuous  and  ill-omened  inarch. 
A  stealthy  gliding  onwards  of  reptiles. 

Scarcely  could  a  murmur  be  heard  beneath  the  thick 
foliage.  The  silent  battle  swarmed  in  the  darkness  await- 
ing the  day. 

The  French  army  was  sleeping. 

Suddenly  it  awoke. 

It  was  a  prisoner. 

The  sun  rose,  brilliant  on  the  side  of  God — terrible  on 
the  side  of  man. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Let  us  review  the  situation. 

The  Germans  have  numbers  on  their  side ;  they  are 
three  against  one,  perhaps  four ;  they  own  to  250,000 
men,  and  it  is  certain  that  their  attacking  front  extended 
for  80  kilometres ;  they  have  on  their  side  the  positions, 
they  crown  the  heights,  they  fill  the  forests,  they  are 
covered  by  all  these  escarpments,  they  arc  masked  by  all 
this  shade;  they  possess  an  incomparable  artillery.  The 
French  army  is  in  a  valley,  almost  without  artillery  and 
without  supplies,  utterly  naked  beneath  their  hail  of  lead. 
The  Germans  have  on  their  side  the  ambuscade,  and  the 
French  have  only  on  their  side  heroism.  Death  is  glo- 
rious, but  surprise  is  profitable. 

A  surprise,  that  is  the  true  description  of  this  brilliant 
exploit. 

Is  it  fair  warfare?  Yes.  But  if  this  is  fair,  what  is 
Unfair  warfare  ?    It  is  the  same  thing. 

This  said,  the  story  of  the  Battle  of  Sedan  has  been  told. 

I  should  have  wished  to  stop  there.  But  I  cannot. 
Whatever  horror  the  historian  may  feel,  History  is  a  duty, 
and  this  duty  must  be  fulfilled.  There  is  no  incline  more 
inexorable  than  this:  to  tell  the  truth;  he  who  ventures 
on  it  rolls  to  the  very  bottom.  It  must  be  so.  The  guard- 
ian of  Justice  is  doomed  to  justice. 
27 


418  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

The  Battle  of  Sedan  is  more  than  a  battle  which  has 
been  fought ;  it  is  a  syllogism  which  is  completed  ;  a  for- 
midable premeditation  of  destiny.  Destiny  never  hurries, 
but  it  always  comes.  At  its  hour,  there  it  is.  It  allows 
years  to  pass  by,  and  at  the  moment  when  men  are  least 
thinking  of  it,  it  appears.  Of  this  character  is  the  fatal, 
the  unexpected  catastrophe  named  Sedan.  From  time  to 
time  in  History,  Divine  logic  makes  an  onslaught.  Sedan 
is  one  of  those  onslaughts. 

Thus  on  the  1st  of  September,  at  five  o'clock  in  thfj 
morning  the  world  awoke  under  the  sun,  and  the  French 
army  under  the  thunderbolt. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Bazeilles  takes  fire,  Givonne  takes  fire,  Floing  takes 
fire ;  the  battle  begins  with  a  furnace.  The  whole  horizon 
is  aflame.  The  French  camp  is  in  this  crater,  stupefied, 
affrighted,  starting  up  from  sleeping, — a  funereal  swarm- 
ing. A  circle  of  thunder  surrounds  the  army.  They  are 
encircled  by  annihilation.  This  mighty  slaughter  is 
carried  on  on  all  sides  simultaneously.  The  French  re- 
sist, and  they  are  terrible,  having  nothing  left  but  de- 
spair. Our  cannon,  almost  all  old-fashioned  and  of  short 
range,  are  at  once  dismounted  by  the  fearful  and  exact 
aim  of  the  Prussians.  The  density  of  the  rain  of  shells 
upon  the  valley  is  so  great,  that  "  the  earth  is  completely 
furrowed,"  says  an  eye-witness,  "  as  though  by  a  rake." 
How  many  cannon?  Eleven  hundred  at  least.  Twelve 
German  batteries  upon  La  Moncelle  alone ;  the  3d  and  4th 
Abtlieilung,  an  awe-striking  artillery,  upon  the  crests  oi 
Givonne,  with  the  2d  horse  battery  in  reserve ;  opposite 
Doigny  ten  Saxon  and  two  Wurtemburg  batteries ;  the 
curtain  of  trees  of  the  wood  to  the  north  of  Villers-Cernay 
masks  the  mounted  Abtheilung,  which  is  there  with  the 
3d  Heavy  Artillery  in  reserve,  and  from  this  gloomy  copse 
issues  a  formidable  fire;  the  twenty-four  pieces  of  the  1st 
Heavy  Artillery  are  ranged  in  the  glade  skirting  the  road 
from  La  Moncelle  to  La  Chapelle ;  the  battery  of  the  Royal 
Guard  sets  fire  to  the  Garenne  Wood ;  the  shells  and  the 
balls  riddle  Suchy,  Francheval,  Fouru-Saint-Remy,  and 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  419 

the  valley  between  Ileibes  and  Givonne;  and  the  third 
and  fourth  rank  of  camion  extend  without  break  of  con- 
tinuity as  far  as  the  Calvary  of  Illy,  the  extreme  point 
of  the  horizon.  The  German  soldiers,  seated  cr  lying  be- 
fore the  batteries,  watch  the  artillery  at  work.  The 
French  soldiers  fall  and  die.  Amongst  the  bodies  which 
cover  the  plain  there  is  one,  the  body  of  an  officer,  on 
which  they  will  find,  after  the  battle,  a  sealed  note,  con- 
taining this  order,  signed  Napoleon  :  "  To-day,  September 
1st,  rest  for  the  whole  army."  * 

The  gallant  35th  of  the  Line  almost  completely  disap- 
pears under  the  overwhelming  shower  of  shells;  the  brave 
Marine  Infantry  holds  at  bay  for  a  moment  the  Saxons, 
joined  by  the  Bavarians,  but  outflanked  on  every  side, 
draws  back ;  all  the  admirable  cavalry  of  the  Margueritte 
Division  hurled  against  the  German  infantry,  halts  and 
sinks  down  midway,  "  annihilated,"  says  the  Prussian 
Report,  "  by  well-aimed  and  cool  firing."  This  field  of 
carnage  has  three  outlets ;  all  three  barred  :  the  Bouillon 
road  by  the  Prussian  Guard,  the  Carignan  road  by  the 
Bavarians,  the  Mezieres  road  by  the  Wurtemburgers.  The 
French  have  not  thought  of  barricading  the  railway  via- 
duct ;  three  German  battalions  have  occupied  it  during 
the  night.  Two  isolated  houses  on  the  Balan  road  could 
be  made  the  pivot  of  a  long  resistance  ;  but  the  Germans 
are  there.  The  wood  from  Monvilliers  to  Bazeilles,  bushy 
and  dense,  might  prevent  the  junction  of  the  Saxons, 
masters  of  La  Moncelle,  and  the  Bavarians,  masters  of 
Bazeilles ;  but  the  French  have  been  forestalled :  they  find 
the  Bavarians  cutting  the  underwood  with  their  bill- 
hooks. The  German  army  moves  in  one  piece,  in  one 
absolute  unity ;  the  Crown  Prince  of  Saxony  is  on  the 
height  of  Mairy,  whence  he  surveys  the  whole  action  ;  the 
command  oscillates  in  the  French  Army ;  at  the  beginning 
of  the  battle,  at  a  quarter  to  six,  MacMahon  is  wounded 
by  the  bursting  of  a  shell;  at  seven  o'clock  Ducrot 
replaces  him  ;  at  ten  o'clock  Wimpfen  replaces  Ducrot. 
Every  instant  the  wall  of  fire  is  drawing  closer  in,  the  roll 
of  the  thunder  is  continuous,  a  dismal  pulverization  of 
90,000  men !     Never  before  has  anything  equal  to  this 

*  Tho  Franco-Gennaii  Warof  1870-71.  Report  of  the  TrussiauStaff 
page  MJ87. 


420  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

been  seen ;  never  before  has  an  army  been  overwhelmed 
beneath  such  a  downpour  of  lead  and  iron !  At  one 
o'clock  all  is  lost !  The  regiments  fly  helter-skelter  into 
Sedan.  But  Sedan  begins  to  burn ;  Dijon val  burns,  the 
ambulances  burn,  there  is  nothing  now  possible  but  to  cut 
their  way  out.  Wimpfen,  brave  and  resolute,  proposes 
this  to  the  Emperor.  The  3d  Zouaves,  desperate,  have 
set  the  example.  Cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  army,  they 
have  forced  a  passage,  and  have  reached  Belgium.  A 
flight  of  lions  ! 

Suddenly,  above  the  disaster,  above  the  huge  pile  of 
dead  and  dying,  above  all  this  unfortunate  heroism,  ap- 
pears disgrace.     The  white  flag  is  hoisted. 

Turenne  and  Vauban  were  both  present,  one  in  his 
statue,  the  other  in  his  citadel. 

The  statue  and  the  citadel  witnessed  the  awe-striking 
capitulation.  These  two  virgins,  one  of  bronze,  the  other 
of  granite,  felt  themselves  prostituted.  O  noble  face  of 
our  country !     Oh,  eternal  blushes  ! 


CHAPTER  VI. 

This  disaster  of  Sedan  was  easy  of  avoidance  by  any 
other  man,  but  impossible  of  avoidance  for  Louis  Bona- 
parte. He  avoided  it  so  little  that  he  sought  it.  Lex 
fati. 

Our  army  seemed  expressly  arranged  for  the  catas- 
trophe. The  soldier  was  uneasy,  ignorant  of  his  where- 
abouts, famished.  On  the  31st  of  August,  in  the  streets 
of  Sedan,  soldiers  were  seeking  their  regiments,  and  going 
from  door  to  door  asking  for  bread.  We  have  seen  the 
Emperor's  order  announcing  the  next  day,  September  1st, 
as  a  day  of  rest.  In  truth  the  army  was  worn  out  with 
fatigue.  And  yet  it  had  only  marched  by  short  stages. 
The  soldier  was  almost  losing  the  habit  of  marching. 
One  corps,  the  1st,  for  example,  only  accomplished  two 
leagues  per  day  (on  the  29th  of  August  from  Stonne  to 
Raucourt). 

During  that  time  the  German  army,  inexorably  com- 
manded and  driven  at  the  stick's  end  like  the  army  of 
the  Xerxes,  achieved  marches  of  fourteen  leagues  in  fifteen 


TTIE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  421 

hours,  which  enabled  it  to  arrive  unexpectedly,  and  to 
surround  the  French  army  while  asleep.  It  was  cus- 
tomary to  allow  oneself  to  be  surprised.  General  Failly 
allowed  himself  to  be  surprised  at  Beaumont ;  during  the 
day  the  soldiers  took  their  guns  to  pieces  to  clean  them, 
at  night  they  slept,  without  even  cutting  the  bridges 
which  delivered  them  to  the  enemy ;  thus  they  neglected 
to  blow  up  the  bridges  of  Mouzon  and  Bazeilles.  On 
September  1st,  daylight  had  not  yet  appeared,  when  an 
advance  guard  of  seven  battalions,  commanded  by  General 
Schultz,  captured  La  Tiulle,  and  insured  the  junction  of 
the  army  of  the  Meuse  with  the  Royal  Guard.  Almost 
at  the  same  minute,  with  German  precision,  the  Wurtem- 
burgers  seized  the  bridge  of  La  Platinerie,  and  hidden  by 
the  Chevalier  Wood,  the  Saxon  battalions,  spread  out  into 
company  columns,  occupied  the  whole  of  the  road  from 
La  Moncelle  to  Villers-Cernay. 

Thus,  as  we  have  seen,  the  awakening  of  the  French 
Army  was  horrible.  At  Bazeilles  a  fog  was  added  to  the 
smoke.  Our  soldiers,  attacked  in  this  gloom,  knew  not 
what  death  required  of  them  ;  they  fought  from  room  to 
room  and  from  house  to  house.* 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  Reboul  brigade  came  to  support 
the  Martin  des  Pallieres  brigade ;  they  were  obliged  to 
yield.  At  the  same  time  Ducrot  was  compelled  to  con- 
centrate his  forces  in  the  Garenne  Wood,  before  the 
Calvary  of  Illy ;  Douay,  shattered,  fell  back ;  Lebrun 
alone  stood  firm  on  the  plateau  of  Stenay.  Our  troops 
occupied  a  line  of  five  kilometres ;  the  front  of  the  French 
army  faced  the  east,  the  left  faced  the  north,  the  ex- 
treme left  (the  Guyomar  brigade)  faced  the  west ;  but 
they  did  not  know  whether  they  faced  the  enemy,  they 
did  not  see  him ;  annihilation  struck  without  showing 
itself ;  they  had  to  deal  with  a  masked  Medusa.  Our 
cavalry  was  excellent,  but  useless.  The  field  of  battle, 
obstructed  by  a  large  wood,  cut  up  by  clumps  of  trees,  by 
houses  and  by  farms  and  by  enclosure  walls,  was  excellent 
for  artillery  and  infantry,  but  bad  for  cavalry.  The 
rivulet  of  Givonne,  which  flows  at  the  bottom  of  the  valley 
and  crosses  it,  for  three  days  ran  with  more  blood  than 

*  "  The  French  were  literally  awakened  from  sleep  hy  our  attack."— 
Helvig. 


422  HE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

water.  Among  other  places  of  carnage,  Saint-Menges 
was  appalling.  For  a  moment  it  appeared  possible  to  cut 
a  way  out  by  Carignan  towards  Montmedy,  and  then  this 
outlet  reclosed.  This  refuge  only  remained,  Sedan ;  Sedan 
encumbered  with  carts,  with  wagons,  with  carriages, 
with  hospital  huts  ;  a  heap  of  combustible  matter.  This 
dying  agony  of  heroes  lasted  ten  hours.  They  refused  to 
surrender,  they  grew  indignant,  they  wished  to  complete 
their  death,  so  bravely  begun.  They  were  delivered  up 
to  it. 

As  we  have  said,  three  men,  three  dauntless  soldiers, 
had  succeeded  each  other  in  the  command,  MacMahon, 
Ducrot,  Wim pf en  ;  MacMahon  had  only  time  to  be 
wounded,  Ducrot  had  only  time  to  commit  a  blunder, 
Wimpfen  had  only  time  to  conceive  an  heroic  idea,  and  he 
conceived  it ;  but  MacMahon  is  not  responsible  for  his 
wound,  Ducrot  is  not  responsible  for  his  blunder,  and 
Wimpfen  is  not  responsible  for  the  impossibility  of  his 
suggestion  to  cut  their  way  out.  The  shell  which  struck 
MacMahon  withdrew  him  from  the  catastrophe  ;  Ducrot' s 
blunder,  the  inopportune  order  to  retreat  given  to  General 
Lebrun,  is  explained  by  the  confused  horror  of  the  situa- 
tion, and  is  rather  an  error  than  a  fault.  Wimpfen,  des- 
perate, needed  20,000  soldiers  to  cut  his  way  out,  and  could 
only  get  together  2000.  History  exculpates  these  three 
men ;  in  this  disaster  of  Sedan  there  was  but  one  sole 
and  fatal  general,  the  Emperor.  That  which  was  knitted 
together  on  the  2d  December,  1851,  came  apart  on  the 
2d  September,  1870  ;  the  carnage  on  the  Boulevard  Mont- 
martre,  and  the  capitulation  of  Sedan  are,  we  maintain, 
the  two  parts  of  a  syllogism ;  logic  and  justice  have  the 
same  balance ;  it  was  Louis  Bonaparte's  dismal  destiny  to 
begin  with  the  black  flag  of  massacre,  and  to  end  with 
the  white  flag  of  disgrace. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

There  was  no  alternative  between  death  and  oppro- 
brium ;  either  soul  or  sword  must  be  surrendered.  Louis 
Bonaparte  surrendered  his  sword 

He  wrote  to  William  : — 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  423 

"  Sire,  my  Brother, 

"  Not  having  been  able  to  die  in  the  midst  of  my  troops, 
it  only  remains  for  me  to  place  my  sword  in  your  Majesty's 
hands. 

"I  am,  your  Majesty, 
"  Your  good  Brother, 

"  Xapoleox. 
«  Sedan,  1st  September,  1870." 

William  answered,  "Sire,  my  Brother,  I  accept  your 
sword." 

And  on  the  2d  of  September,  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  this  plain,  streaming  with  blood,  and  covered 
with  dead,  saw  pass  by  a  gilded  open  carriage  and  four, 
the  horses  harnessed  after  Daumont  fashion,  and  in  this 
carriage  a  man,  cigarette  in  mouth,  it  was  the  Emperor 
of  the  French  going  to  surrender  his  sword  to  the  King 
of  Prussia. 

The  King  kept  the  Emperor  waiting.  It  was  too  early. 
He  sent  M.  de  Bismarck  to  Louis  Bonaparte  to  say  that 
he  "  would  not  "  receive  him  yet  awhile.  Louis  Bonaparte 
entered  into  a  hovel  by  the  side  of  the  road.  A  table  and 
two  chairs  were  there.  Bismarck  and  he  leant  their  arms 
on  the  table  and  conversed.  A  mournful  conversation. 
At  the  hour  which  suited  the  King,  towards  noon,  the 
Emperor  got  back  into  his  carriage,  and  went  to  the  castle 
of  Bellevue,  half  way  to  the  castle  of  Vandresse.  There 
he  waited  until  the  King  came.  At  one  o'clock  William 
arrived  from  Vandresse,  and  consented  to  receive  Bon- 
aparte. He  received  him  badly.  Attila  has  not  a  light 
hand.  The  King,  a  blunt,  straightforward  man,  showed 
the  Emperor  a  pity  involuntarily  cruel.  There  are  pities 
which  overwhelm.  The  conqueror  upbraided  the  con- 
quered with  the  victory.  Bluntness  handles  an  open 
wound  badly.  "Whatever  was  your  reason  for  declaring 
this  war?"  The  conquered  excused  himself,  accusing 
France.  The  distant  hurrahs  of  the  victorious  German 
army  cut  short  this  dialogue. 

The  King  caused  the  Emperor  to  be  reconducted  by  a 
detachment  of  the  IJoyal  Guard.  This  excess  of  ignominy 
is  called  "an  escort  of  honor." 

After  the  sword  the  Army. 

On  the  3d  of  September,  Louis  Bonaparte  handed  over 
to  Germany  83,000  French  soldiers. 


424  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

"  In  addition  "  (says  the  Prussian  report)  : — 

"  One  eagle  and  two  flags. 

"  419  field-guns  and  niitrailleuses. 

"  139  heavy  pieces. 

"1079  vehicles  of  all  kinds. 

"  60,000  muskets. 

"6000  horses,  still  good  for  service." 

These  German  figures  are  not  wholly  to  be  depended 
upon.  According  to  what  seems  useful  at  the  moment, 
the  Aulic  chancellors  swell  or  reduce  the  disaster.  There 
were  about  13,000  wounded  amongst  the  prisoners.  The 
numbers  vary  in  the  official  documents.  A  Prussian 
report,  reckoning  up  the  French  soldiers  killed  and 
wounded  in  the  battle  of  Sedan,  publishes  this  total :  /Six- 
teen thousand  four  hundred  men.  This  number  causes  a 
shudder.  For  it  is  that  very  number,  Sixteen  thousand 
four  hundred  men,  which  Saint  Arnaud  had  set  to  work 
on  the  Boulevard  Montmartre  upon  the  4th  of  December, 
1851. 

Half  a  league  to  the  north-west  of  Sedan,  near  Iges,  the 
bend  of  the  Meuse  almost  forms  an  island.  A  canal 
crosses  the  isthmus,  so  that  the  peninsula  becomes  an 
island.  It  was  there  that  there  were  penned,  under  the 
stick  of  the  Prussian  corporals,  83,000  French  soldiers. 
A  few  sentinels  watched  over  this  army. 

They  placed  but  few,  insolently.  These  conquered 
men  remained  there  ten  days,  the  wounded  almost  with- 
out care,  the  able-bodied  almost  without  nourishment. 
The  German  army  sneered  around  them.  The  heavens 
took  part  against  them.  The  weather  was  fearful. 
Neither  huts  nor  tents.  Not  a  fire,  not  a  truss  of  straw. 
For  ten  days  and  ten  nights  these  83,000  prisoners  bivou- 
acked with  their  heads  beneath  the  rain,  their  feet  in  the 
mud.     Many  died  of  fever,  regretting  the  hail  of  bullets. 

At  length  ox-wagons  came  and  took  them  away. 

The  King  placed  the  Emperor  in  some  place  or  other. 
Wilhelmshohe. 

What  a  thing  of  rags  and  tatters,  an  Emperor  "  drawn  " 
like  a  fowl ! 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  425 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

I  was  there,  thoughtful.  I  looked  on  these  fields,  these 
ravines,  these  hills,  shuddering.  I  would  willingly  have 
insulted  this  terrible  place. 

But  sacred  horror  held  me  back. 

The  station-master  of  Sedan  came  to  my  carriage,  and 
explained  to  me  what  I  had  before  my  eyes.  I  seemed  to 
see,  through  his  words,  the  pale  lightnings  of  the  battle. 
All  these  distant  cottages,  scattered  about  and  charming 
in  the  sun,  had  been  burnt;  they  were  rebuilt;  Nature, 
so  quickly  diverted,  had  repaired  everything,  had  cleaned 
everything,  had  swept  everything,  hud  replaced  every- 
thing. The  ferocious  convulsion  of  men  had  vanished, 
eternal  order  had  resumed  its  sway.  But,  as  I  have  said, 
the  sun  was  there  in  vain,  all  this  valley  was  smoke  and 
darkness.  In  the  distance,  upon  an  eminence  to  my  left, 
I  saw  a  huge  castle  ;  it  was  Vandresse.  There  lodged  the 
King  of  Prussia.  Halfway  up  this  height,  along  the  road, 
I  distinguished  above  the  trees  three  pointed  gables;  it 
was  another  castle,  Bellevue ;  there  Louis  Bonaparte  sur- 
rendered to  William;  there  he  had  given  and  delivered 
up  our  army;  it  was  there  that,  not  being  immediately 
admitted,  and  requested  to  exercise  a  little  patience,  he 
had  remained  for  nearly  an  hour  silent  and  wan  before 
the  door,  bringing  his  disgrace,  and  waiting  until  it  should 
please  William  to  open  the  door  to  him  ;  it  was  there  that 
before  receiving  it  the  King  of  Prussia  had  made  the  sword 
of  France  dangle  about  in  an  ante-chamber.  Lower  down, 
nearer,  in  the  valley,  at  the  beginning  of  a  road  leading  to 
Vandresse,  they  pointed  out  to  me  a  species  of  hovel. 
There  they  told  me,  while  waiting  for  the  King  of  Prussia, 
the  Emperor  Napoleon  III.  had  got  down,  livid  ;  he  had 
gone  into  a  little  courtyard,  which  they  pointed  out  to 
me,  and  where  adog  growled  on  the  chain  ;  he  had  seated 
himself  on  a  stone  close  by  a  dunghill,  and  he  had  said, 
"  I  am  thirsty."  A  Prussian  soldier  had  brought  him  a 
glass  of  water. 

Terrible  end  of  the  coup  </'<"(<!/  /  Blood  when  it  is  drunk 
does  not  quench  the  thirst.  An  hour  was  to  conic  when 
the  unhappy  one  should   utter  the   cry   of  fever  and  of 


42G  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME. 

agony.  Disgrace  reserved  for  him  this  thirst,  and  Prussia 
this  glass  of  water. 

Fearful  dregs  of  Destiny. 

Beyond  the  road,  at  a  few  steps  from  me,  five  trem- 
bling and  pale  poplars  sheltered  the  front  of  the  house,  the 
single  story  of  which  was  surmounted  by  a  sign.  On  this 
sign  was  written  in  great  letters  this  name  :  Drouet.  I 
became  haggard.  Drouet  I  read  Varennes.  Tragical 
Chance,  which  mingled  Varennes  with  Sedan,  seemed  to 
wish  to  bring  the  two  catastrophes  face  to  face,  and  to 
couple  in  a  manner  with  the  same  chain  the  Emperor  a 
prisoner  of  the  foreigner,  to  the  King  a  prisoner  of  his 
people. 

The  mist  of  reverie  veiled  this  plain  from  me.  The 
Meuse  appeared  to  me  to  wear  a  ruddy  reflection,  the 
neighboring  isle,  whose  verdure  I  had  admired,  had  for  its 
subsoil  a  tomb :  Fifteen  hundred  horses,  and  as  many 
men,  were  buried  there:  thence  the  thick  grass.  Here 
and  there,  as  far  as  could  be  seen,  mounds,  covered  with 
ill-favored  vegetation,  dotted  the  valley ;  each  of  these 
patches  of  vegetation  marked  the  place  of  a  buried  regiment. 
There  Guyomar's  Brigade  had  been  annihilated ;  there,  the 
Lheritier  Division  had  been  exterminated ;  here  the  7th 
Corps  had  perished  ;  there,  without  having  even  reached 
the  enemy's  infantry,  had  fallen  "  beneath  the  cool  and 
well-aimed  firing,"  as  the  Prussian  report  states,  the 
whole  of  General  Margueritte's  cavalry.  From  these  two 
heights,  the  most  elevated  of  this  circle  of  hills,  Daigny, 
opposite  Givonne,  which  is  266  metres  high,  Fleigneux, 
opposite  Ply,  296  metres  high,  the  batteries  of  the 
Prussian  Poyal  Guard  had  crushed  the  French  Army.  It 
was  done  from  above,  with  the  terrible  authority  of  Des- 
tiny. It  seemed  as  though  they  had  come  there  purposely, 
these  to  kill,  the  others  to  die.  A  valley  for  a  mortar, 
the  German  Army  for  a  pestle,  such  is  the  battle  of  Sedan. 
I  gazed,  powerless  to  avert  1113'  eyes,  at  this  field  of  dis- 
aster, at  this  undulating  country  which  had  proved  no 
protection  to  our  regiments,  at  this  ravine  where  all  our 
cavalry  were  demolished,  at  all  this  amphitheatre  where 
the  catastrophe  was  spread  out,  at  the  gloomy  escarp- 
ments of  La  Marphee,  at  these  thickets,  at  these  decliv- 
ities, at  these  precipices,  at  these  forests  filled  with 
ambushes,  and  in  this  terrible  shadow,  O  Thou  the  In- 
visible !    I  saw  Thee. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CRIME.  427 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Never  was  there  a  more  dismal  fall. 

No  expiation  can  be  compared  with  this.  The  unpre- 
cedented drama  was  in  five  acts,  so  fierce  that  xEschylus 
himself  would  not  have  dared  to  dream  of  them.  "The 
Ambush  !  "  "  The  Struggle  !  "  "  The  Massacre ! "  "  The 
Victory!"  "The  Fall!"  What  a  tangle  and  what  an 
unwinding!  A  poet  who  would  have  predicted  it  would 
have  seemed  a  traitor.  God  alone  could  permit  Himself 
Sedan. 

Everything  in  proportion,  such  is  His  law.  Far  worse 
than  Brumaire,  it  needed  a  more  crushing  retribution  than 
Waterloo. 

The  first  Napoleon,  as  we  have  said  elsewhere,*  had 
faced  his  destiny ;  he  had  not  been  dishonored  by  his 
punishment,  he  fell  while  steadfastly  regarding  God.  He 
came  back  to  Paris,  appraising  the  deserts  of  those  men 
who  overthrew  him,  proudly  distinguishing  amongst  them, 
esteeming  Lafayette  and  despising  Dupin.  He  had  at  the 
last  moment  wished  to  see  clearly  into  his  destiny,  lie  had 
not  allowed  his  eyes  to  be  bandaged;  he  had  accepted  the 
catastrophe  while  making  his  conditions  with  it.  Here 
there  is  nothing  of  the  kind.  One  might  almost  say  that 
the  traitor  is  struck  treacherously.  In  this  case  there  is 
a  bad  man  who  feels  himself  in  the  grasp  of  Destiny,  and 
who  does  not  know  what  it  is  doing  to  him.  He  was  at 
the  summit  of  his  power,  the  blind  master  of  an  idiot 
world.  He  had  wished  for  a  plefnscilioii,  he  had  had  one. 
lie  had  at  his  feet  this  very  William.  It  was  at  this  mo- 
ment that  his  crime  suddenly  seized  him.  He  did  not 
struggle  against  it;  he  Mas  the  condemned  man  who 
obeys  his  sentence.  He  submitted  to  everything  which 
terrible  Fate  exacted  from  him.  Never  was  there  a  more 
docile  patient.  He  had  no  army,  he  made  war;  he  had 
only  Houher,  he  provoked  Bismarck  ;  he  had  only  Lelxeuf, 
he  attacked  Moltke.  He  confided  Slrasburg  to  Ullrich; 
he  gave  Metz  to  Bazaine  to  guard.     He  had  120,000  men 

*  "L'Aimee  Terrible." 


428  THE  HISTORY  OF  A  CEIME. 

at  Chalons;  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  cover  Paris.  He 
felt  that  his  crime  rose  up  there,  threatening  and  erect; 
he  fled,  not  daring  to  face  Paris.  He  himself  led — pur- 
posely, and  yet  despite  himself ;  willing  and  yet  unwill- 
ing, knowingly  and  yet  unknowingly,  a  miserable  mind, 
a  prey  to  the  abyss — he  led  his  army  into  a  place  of  anni- 
hilation ;  he  made  that  terrible  choice,  a  battle-field  with- 
out an  outlet ;  he  was  no  longer  conscious  of  anything, 
no  more  of  his  blander  of  to-day  than  of  his  crime  of 
former  days ;  he  must  finish,  but  he  could  only  finish  as 
a  fugitive ;  this  condemned  one  was  not  worthy  to  look 
his  end  in  the  face ;  he  lowered  his  head,  he  turned  his 
back.  God  executed  him  in  degrading  him.  Napoleon 
III.  as  an  Emperor  had  a  right  to  thunder,  but  for  this 
man  the  thunder  was  ignominious — he  was  thunder- 
struck in  the  back. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Let  us  forget  this  man,  and  let  us  look  at  Humanity. 

The  invasion  of  France  by  Germany,  in  1870,  was  a 
night  effect.  The  world  was  astonished  that  so  much 
gloom  could  come  forth  from  a  people.  Five  black  months 
— such  was  the  siege  of  Paris. ,  To  create  night  may  prove 
Power,  but  Glory  consists  in  the  creation  of  daylight. 
France  creates  daylight.  Thence  her  immense  human 
popularity.  To  her  Civilization  owes  the  dawn.  The 
human  mind  in  order  to  see  clearly  turns  in  the  direction  of 
France.  Five  months  of  darkness,  that  is  what,  in  1870, 
Germany  succeeded  in  giving  to  the  Nations  ;  France  has 
given  to  them  four  centuries  of  light. 

To-day  the  civilized  world  more  than  ever  feels  the  need 
which  it  has  of  France.  France  has  proved  this  by  her 
danger.  The  ungrateful  apathy  of  Governments  only 
increased  the  anxiety  of  nations.  At  the  sight  of  Paris 
threatened,  there  arose  among  the  peoples  dread  that 
their  own  heads  were  in  danger.  Would  they  allow  Ger- 
many to  go.^m?  But  France  saved  herself  quite  alone. 
She  had  only  to  rise.     Patuit  dea. 

To-day  she  is  greater  than  ever.  What  would  have 
killed  another  nation  has  hardly  wounded  her.  The 
darkening  of  her   horizon  has  rendered  her  light  more 


TIIE  HISTORY  OF  A  ClilME.  429 

visible.  What  she  has  lost  in  territory  she  has  gained  in 
radiancy.  Morever,  she  is  fraternal  without  an  effort. 
Above  her  misfortune  there  is  her  smile.  It  is  not  on  her 
that  the  Gothic  Empire  weighs.  She  is  a  nation  of  citizens 
and  not  a  flock  of  subjects.  Frontiers  ?  Will  there  be 
any  frontiers  in  twenty  years  ?  Victories  ?  France  counts 
in  her  past  victories  of  war,  and  in  her  future  victories  of 
peace.  The  future  belongs  to  Voltaire,  and  not  to  Krupp ; 
the  future  belongs  to  the  book,  and  not  to  the  sword.  The 
future  belongs  to  life,  and  not  to  death.  There  is  in  the 
policy  opposed  to  France  a  certain  amount  of  the  tomb; 
to  seek  life  in  the  old  institutions  is  a  vain  task,  and  to 
feed  upon  the  past  is  to  bite  the  dust.  France  has  the 
faculty  of  giving  light;  no  catastrophe,  political  or  mili- 
tary, will  deprive  her  of  this  mysterious  supremacy.  The 
cloud  passes  away,  the  star  is  seen  once  more. 

The  star  possesses  no  anger  ;  the  dawn  bears  no  malice. 
Light  is  satisfied  in  being  light.  Light  is  everything; 
the  human  race  has  no  other  love.  France  knows  her- 
self beloved  because  she  is  good,  and  the  greatest  of  all 
powers  is  to  be  loved.  The  French  revolution  is  for  all 
the  world.  It  is  a  battle  perpetually  waged  for  Right, 
and  perpetually  gained  for  Truth.  Right  is  the  innermost 
part  of  man ;  Truth  is  the  innermost  part  of  God. 
What  can  be  done  against  a  revolution  which  has  so  much 
right  on  its  side?  Nothing.  To  love  it.  That  is  what 
the  nations  do.  France  otters  herself,  the  world  accepts 
her.  The  whole  phenomenon  lies  in  these  few  words. 
An  invasion  of  armies  can  be  resisted  ;  an  invasion  of  ideas 
cannot  he  resisted.  The  glory  of  barbarians  is  to  be  con- 
quered by  humanity;  the  glory  of  savages  is  to  be  con- 
quered by  civilization;  the  glory  of  darkness  is  to  he  con- 
quered by  the  torch.  This  is  why  France  is  desired  and 
assented  to  by  all.  This  is  why,  having  no  hatred,  she 
has  no  fear;  this  is  why  she  is  fraternal  and  maternal; 
this  is  why  it  is  impossible  to  lessen  her,  impossible  to 
humiliate  her,  impossible  to  irritate  her;  this  is  why.  after 
so  many  ordeals,  after  so  many  catastrophes,  after  so  many 
disasters,  after  so  many  calamities,  after  so  many  falls, 
incorruptible  and  invulnerable  she  holds  out  her  hand  to 
all  the  peoples  from  above. 

When  our  glance  rests  on  this  old  continent,  stirred  to- 
day by  a  new  breath,  certain  phenomena  appear,  and  we 


430  THE  HISTOBY  OF  A  CRIME. 

seem  to  gain  a  glimpse  of  that  august  and  mysterious  pro- 
blem, the  formation  of  the  future.  It  may  be  said,  that  in 
the  same  manner  as  light  is  compounded  of  seven  colors, 
civilization  is  compounded  of  seven  peoples.  Of  these 
peoples,  three,  Greece,  Italy,  and  Spain,  represent  the 
South ;  three,  England,  Germany,  and  Russia,  represent 
the  north ;  the  seventh,  or  the  first,  France,  is  at  the  same 
time  North  and  South,  Celtic  and  Latin,  Gothic  and  Greek. 
This  country  owes  to  its  heaven  this  sublime  good  fortune, 
the  crossing  of  two  rays  of  light ;  the  crossing  of  two  rays 
of  light  is  as  though  we  were  to  say  the  joining  of  two 
hands,  that  is  to  say  Peace.  Such  is  the  privilege  of 
this  France,  she  is  at  the  same  time  solar  and  starry.  In 
\ier  heaven  she  possesses  as  much  dawn  as  the  East, 
and  as  many  stars  as  the  North.  Sometimes  her  glim- 
mer rises  in  the  twilight,  but  it  is  in  the  black  night  of 
revolutions  and  of  wars  that  her  resplendence  blazes 
forth,  and  her  aurorean  dawn  becomes  the  Aurora 
Borealis. 

One  day,  before  long,  the  seven  nations,  which  combine 
in  themselves  the  whole  of  humanity,  will  join  together 
and  amalgamate  like  the  seven  colors  of  the  prism,  in  a 
radiant  celestial  arch ;  the  marvel  of  Peace  will  appear 
eternal  and  visible  above  civilization,  and  the  world, 
dazzled,  will  contemplate  the  immense  rainbow  of  the 
United  Peoples  of  Europe. 


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Dickens. 
Deemster,  The.    By  Hall  Caine. 

Deerslayer,  The.  By  James  Feni- 
more  Cooper. 

Dombey  &  Son.  By  Charles  Dick- 
ens. 

Donal  Grant.  By  George  Mac- 
donald. 

Donald  Ross  of  Heimra.  By 
William  Black. 

Donovan.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

Dream  Life.    By  Ik.  Marvel. 
East  Lynne.    By  Mrs.  Henry  Wood. 
Egoist,  The.    By  George  Meredith. 

Egyptian     Princess,     An.       By 

George  Ebers. 

Eight  Years  Wandering  in  Cey- 
lon.   By  Sir  Samuel  Baker. 

Emerson's  Essays.  By  Ralph 
Waldo  Emerson. 

Emperor,  The.    By  George  Ebers. 

Essays  of  Elia.    By  Charles  Lamb. 

Esther.    By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 

Far  from  the  Madding  Crowd. 

By  Thos.  Hardy. 
Felix  Holt.    By  George  Eliot. 

Fifteen  Decisive  Battles  of  the 

"World.     By  E.  S.  Creasy. 
File  No.  113.    By  Emilc  Gaboriau. 

First  Violin.     By  Jessie  Fothergill. 

For  Faith   and    Freedom.       By 

Walter  Besaut. 
Frederick  the   Great,    and  His 

Court.    By  Louisa  Muhlbach. 
French  Revolution.     By  Thomas 

Carlyle. 
From  the  Earth  to  the  Moon. 

By  J  ules  Verne. 


Goethe  and  Schiller.     By  Louisa 

Muhlbach, 
Gold  Bug,  The,  and  Other  Tales. 

By  Edgar  A.  Poe. 
Gold  Elsie.    By  E.  Marlitt. 

Great  Expectations.     By  Charles 

Dickens. 
Great  Taboo,  The.  By  Grant  Allen. 

Great  Treason,  A.  By  Mary  Hop- 
pus. 

Green  Mountain  Boys,  The.  By 
D.  P.  Thompson. 

Grimm's  Household  Tales.  By 
the  Brothers  Grimm. 

Grimm's  Popular  Tales.  By  the 
Brothers  Grimm. 

Gulliver's  Travels.  By  Dean 
Swift. 

Handy  Andy.    By  Samuel  Lover. 

Hardy  Norseman,   A.     By  Edna 

Lyall. 
Harold.    By  Bulwer-Lytton. 

Harry  Lorrequer.  By  Charles 
Lever. 

Heir  of  Redclyffe.  By  Charlotte 
M.  Yonge. 

Henry  Esmond.  By  William  M. 
Thackeray. 

Her  Dearest  Foe.  By  Mrs.  Alex- 
ander. 

Heriot's  Choice.  By  Rosa  N.  Carey. 

Heroes  and  Hero  Worship.  By 
Thomas  Carlyle. 

History  of  Pendennis.  By  Will- 
iam M.  Thackeray. 

House  of  the  Seven  Gables.  By 
Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 

How  to  be  Happy  Though  Mar- 
ried. 

Hunchback  of  Notre  Dj  me.  By 
Victor  Hugo. 

Hypatia.    By  Charles  Kingsley. 

Idle  Thoughts  of  an  Idle  Fellow. 

By  Jerome  K.  Jerome. 
In   Far    Lochaber.     By    William 

Black. 


"  T would  prcfn-  to  hare  one  comfortable  room  well  stocked  with  hooka  to  all 
you  can  give  me  in  the  way  of  decoration  which  the  highest  art  can  supply."— 
ioaa  Brigot. 


D 


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